


Of Stable Boys, Heroes, Mothers and Villans

by jg82



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, DragonQueen, F/F, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, RedQueen, Regal Believer, Swan-Mills Family, Swan-Mills-Charming Family, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 58
Words: 161,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jg82/pseuds/jg82
Summary: When the curse broke, Regina expected many things, but aiding Prince Charming in bringing Snow White and Emma Swan home along with taking care of their town and her son, was not one of them. Yet here she was, making sacrifices and taking chances because, honestly, she had nothing left to lose, and possibly, she had much to gain.





	1. David & Regina

**Author's Note:**

> I've never wrote fanfic before. Often, when a show inspires me, that inspiration is set off in a world of my own with some minor reflections of its source. After witnessing the debacle that OUAT has become, however, I decided it was time to do the show's characters some justice. No, I don't own them, I won't make profit from this, but I sure hope to enjoy them once again.  
> So I've gone back to the point where I first walked away from OUAT myself--Episode 2x05 "The Doctor". If you can recall that far back, this is where Daniel, Regina's lost love, comes back. I thought that was great, finally we get to face that, but I was wrong. The episode itself was fine, to a degree, but the fact that the next episode hardly touched on it, that Regina's struggle with what she had been forced to do was barely acknowledged surprised me. I mean, this is the man she loved! The man whose death spiraled her towards the path of becoming the Evil Queen! How, how can you not focus on that pivotal point?  
> I'm undoing it all. Some things I agreed with will remain, but I'm taking note as I rewatch season two and I'm doing right by these characters, all of them, until their paths are complete. If you have noted my tags, yes, this is a Swanqueen story. I myself had not originally cared if Regina and Emma fell in love early on in the show, they had many obstacles to overcome, but by season four I was starting to wonder who the writers were trying to lie to--us or themselves--because Regina and Emma's development was the one good thing that they were (mostly) successfully progressive at. So I'm going to take a ride on that ship and give it a trip it deserves. Please, don't hesitate to question me on why I'm writing people and things a certain way, I'm more than happy to answer any questions.  
> I guess then that's my spiel. So just sit back and hopefully enjoy!

**_Storybrooke, Maine_ **

_ -Present- _

  
  


    When she was a young girl, long before realm jumping curses and Evil Queens, Regina Mills wanted nothing more in life than to be loved. 

     She had no need for riches or power, things her cruel manipulative mother yearned for. She despised magic, ever only knowing its cold painful hands. She had the tender touches and warm hugs her meek father was able to give her when Cora Mills wasn’t around, and she had her horse—Rocinante—who was the only friend she was ever allowed.

     But they were not enough.

     She wanted love,  _ true love _ , the most powerful kind of all.

     She wanted Daniel Colter, the stable boy with a heart full of kindness, stimulating kisses, and a hope that promised her everything—if only they could run away. If only they could stop her mother from orchestrating an unwanted engagement to a widowed King thrice her age. If only they could convince the King’s spoiled child to keep their affair secret after unwittingly spying on them. If only they were faster, stealthier, than mother.

     Only then, maybe, Daniel and her would have a chance.

     But the ‘ifs’ were only that.

     Daniel was dead, and he wasn’t coming back.

 

     Regina sat on the sidewalk outside a converted brick building, as numb as the chilly night setting in around her. She had drove here on autopilot after talking to Dr. Hopper, recounting to him everything that had transpired at the Storybrooke stables this afternoon. He had been kind, consoling, and she had despised her need of him.

     Daniel. Her Daniel, had been used like some worthless lab rat tormentingly experimented on and brought back to life. He had been a pawn, a bartering chip for a Doctor driven by his own personal demons, and in the end they had all horrifically suffered.

     Never, in the thirty plus years since she had preserved his body after losing him once to Cora’s machinations, had she ever imagined that she would have to kill Daniel herself. It was like ripping out her own heart and crushing it. The pain in his eyes, the pleading, the wind swept ashes lying scattered among dirt and hay—she couldn’t stop replaying it all in her mind.

_      My poor, sweet, love. Oh why did you have to go again? _

_      Why? _

_      Why? _

     With a heavy sigh, she rests her head on her arms, and just stares out into the darkness. 

 

     Eventually, the door to the building behind her swings open with a loud bang. But she doesn’t move. Even when the approaching, threatening, figure hesitates before unexpectedly sitting a distance from her, she remains where she’s at—limbs still wrapped tightly in a fragile cocoon.

     They sit in silence, for how long she isn’t really sure, until she finally tilts her head slightly to give the man a questioning glance.

     “If I had ever managed to kill Snow White, what would you have done?” Her voice is raw from tears and far too much heartache. “Would you have sought me out? Hunted me down to the ends of the Enchanted Forest until you could reap your revenge on the Evil Queen? Tell me, Prince Charming,” her chest rumbles with hollow derision, “What does retribution look like to you?” 

     He doesn’t answer, not right away.

     She half expects him not to at all.

     Clearing his throat, however, and shifting his bulky frame into a more comfortable position, David Nolan lets his crystal eyes critically roam the almost empty street around them before replying in a strained tone, “Yes. I would have. But...not like you,  _ never _ ...like you have done.”

     Regina nods once at this. The shepherd turned Prince and her are unwillingly alike in some ways. They both love fearlessly. They are passionate people of action. They fight for what they have, and they rage at the notion of it being lost to them forever.

     “I suppose your mother was the doting type who coddled you.” It was said in slight, but grief muted its impact to nothing more than dust carried on passing winds.

     The sandy haired man smiled, unabashed, nodding his head at all the apparent warm memories those words brought back of his loving mother. Turning towards Regina, his goofy grin slowly dimmed as he thought about what Cora Mills must have been like in comparison.

     Eyes drifting briefly to the illuminated windows high above behind them, he states matter of factly after a moment, “No more so than you do with Henry.”

     Regina snorts at that.

     About to rebut his claim.

     But David shakes his head at her in defiance.

     “Whether you admit it or not, having Henry around the last couple days has proven that to me,” he makes clear. “You may be many things, Regina,” he pauses, gaze flickering over her, “but you are not your mother.”

     She shifts her attention back to the streets, tired of letting the insipid man see her so emotionally run through. She doubts he even knows how badly she needed to hear those words right now. Hell, she didn’t even know until they had been spoken. But she won’t give him any kind of satisfaction in proving a notion to her she just can’t delude herself into believing in.

     Desperately blinking back the constant moisture blurring her vision, she sniffs and thinks about the little boy hopefully resting in the loft above.

     “How is he?”

     Charming sighs.

     “A little sore, and quiet.” He folds his arms across his chest, a habit when he’s uncomfortable. “Henry’s likely going to have nightmares.”

     She hums non committal, assuming as much. Of course he will. She’s been his mother for the last ten years, after all. No one, not even his newly found grandparent, knows him like she does.

     “You need to sleep,” she suddenly declares out of context. “As acting Sheriff, now more than ever, this town and its people need you.”

     He wants to snap back that she doesn’t need to tell him what is expected of him—she can see it in the way his frame instantly broadens out in opposition—but he bites his tongue as he realizes she’s simply stating a truth. With Emma Swan and Snow White gone, lost somewhere in the Enchanted Forest (he hopes), the town needs him as a capable leader. Even as he searches for a way to bring his wife and daughter home.

    Taking on the responsibility for Henry had been instinctual, perhaps, but not completely thought out.

     Sizing her up, David takes a deep breath, and makes a very cautious, predictable, decision.

     “You’re right. I do need my rest.” His head bobs wearily. “And as much as I would love to sit up all night and be there for my grandson, reasonably, I can’t.” Understandable wariness creeps across his chiseled features. “But I know you can.”

     She’s silent for a moment, reacting with only a mere rotation of her head to face him. “Where is he sleeping?”

     “In Emma’s bed.” It’s as close as her son can get to his birth mother at the moment and, strangely, a likely mutual ground for them all.

     With a thoughtful deep breath, she drifts her chestnut eyes back to the buildings around them, and snarks softly, “Do try not to snore like the boar that you are.” She wets her drying lips. “This is Storybrooke, not a farm. Buy some strips at the counter store if you need them.”

     Charming struggles not to break out into a cocky smirk eerily similar to his daughter’s. “I’ll do my best, your Majesty.”


	2. Emma, Hook, and Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned before, somethings from the show will remain, the rest is my own interpretation of how it should have been.

  ** _The Enchanted Forest_**

_ -Present- _

  
  


     A beanstalk.

     Because of course Jack and the Beanstalk would be real, just like a sweaty flirtatious Captain Hook—minus the hideous mustache, perm, and feathery hat. No, this Hook is nothing like the Disney version, as is the rest of the Enchanted (so wrongfully named) Forest in this godforsaken world.

     Her ‘homeland’, as her mother so kindly reminded her, is more like something from the Elder Scrolls. Except she’s no level thirty Dragonborn Redguard, or some divine Nord destined to destroy Oblivion. She’s a small town Sheriff, a Bail bondsperson, a former thief, and a mother desperate to get back to her kid. There is no save point in her reality, and no potions of plentiful health to keep her from dying should something go tragically wrong on this stupid quest up a stem to retrieve a magical compass guarded by an angry fearsome giant.

_      For fuck’s sake. _

     She hates this place.

     And what the hell has her life even become?!

     No offense to her fairytale parents and Henry—who has a childlike misperception of this realm—but she doesn’t see the appeal. She doesn’t want to be a Savior, or some destined hero to be idealized. She doesn’t want to be a Princess. Nor does she want a kingdom to some day rule. Hell, she hardly wants the responsibility of being the law in Storybrooke! If it wasn’t for Regina, who makes her feel capable and responsible even with all her derisive remarks, she would have easily let that go to Sidney Glass.

     Sigh.  _ Regina. _

     The woman has been on her mind as much as Henry after meeting the one and only, Cora Mills.  _ What a psychopath!  _ If that lunatic’s current mass murdering behavior is anything to go by, she understands her Majesty WAY more than she did before. Because Core was right about one thing. The apple had fallen far  _ far  _ from that family tree.

     At least, from her perspective.

     Glancing down from their spot so high up on the stalk where her mother, Mulan, and Aurora are just little blurry dots, she takes a moment to reflect on what is apparently another truth to her new reality. 

     Regina Mills, hard ass Mayor of Storybrooke and royal pain in her side, is the Evil Queen from Snow White. She’s not just some manipulative and cruel bitch. She’s a twisted killer Princess who has taken countless lives just to reap revenge. A real fucking sadist that tried to  _ poison _ her.... 

     But who also loves her son with wide eye affection, tender touches, and tears that run on heartache and guilt. Who has spoiled him. Who has fought against even her, to keep Henry safe. Like tearing down the old rickety castle to build a new playground. Sending him to see Dr. Hopper, hoping he would really talk to the man as much as she was undoubtedly demanding he convince Henry to let the whole fairytale curse thing go.

     And that day at the mines.

_      Gods, that had been terrifying! _

     During that fateful event she saw more of Regina’s caring nature than she had ever seen before. Except when she first arrived in town, and then again when August Booth rode in not long after her. In all three instances, she was the proverbial mother bear using the tools ( _ herself included _ ) accessible to protect THEIR son.

     So what can she say or think about all of that except she  _ gets _ her.

     Right or wrong, she understands that her world isn’t the only broken place in existence. She knows the harsh reality of having to do what it takes to survive. She’s met mothers like Cora before, and she’s seen the devastating consequences they have on their own children.

     Hell, she’s been a brutal victim herself.

     So yeah...Regina’s an Evil Queen...but she’s not monster.

     Not to her....and not to Henry either. Not really.

 

*****

 

     “Y’know, most men would take your silence as off putting,” he finally had to voice, drawing Emma’s attention away from the now sightless ground below to his cocky wild-eyed grin. “But I love a challenge.”

     Her lack of conversation had been oddly stifling the past few hours.

     Normally, that wouldn’t bother him as he’s not much of a conversationalist himself. But the entire...appearance of her has him torn between fascination and frustration. He’s never met anyone quite like Miss Swan.

     “I’m concentrating,” she bites back, unwilling to play his flirty game.

     “No, you’re afraid, afraid to talk,” he counters while she manages to pull herself up beside him. “To reveal yourself. To trust me.” He raises a brow at her. “Things would be a lot smoother if you did.”

     “You should be use to people not trusting you,” she quips, giving him her own grin.

     “Ah,” he wrinkles his nose, “the Pirate thing.”

     Usually the lasses find his line of work...persuasively charming.

     Not her, it seems.

     “Welp, I don’t need you to share,” he decides with a sigh, returning to his own climbing. “You’re something of an open book, after all.”

     She turns to him at that.

     “Am I?”

     “Quite,” he smiles again, pleased that he’s got her attention now. Tilting his head slightly as if in thought, he murmurs, “Let’s see. Ah, yes. You volunteered to come up here because you were the most motivated. You need to get back to something. Or someone. A child, perhaps.”

     Emma’s sparkling green gaze rove over his features, before she shakes her head, and starts moving once more. “That’s not perception, that’s eavesdropping.”

_      Damn. _

_      Clever girl. _

     “Yes,” he recovers, chasing up the beanstalk after her, “but you don’t want to abandon him like the way you were abandoned.” He pulls out his most understanding expression, hoping to strike a chord with her on that.

     She snaps a glare his way.

_      And the fire is lit. _

     “I’ve seen that look you carry, the one in your eyes,” he reveals, leaning on a tangible truth. “I’ve seen it on the faces of the lost boys in Neverland.” He pauses, shifting closer to her. “An orphan is an orphan, no matter what land they hail from.”

     Visible, hard, walls slam faster than a cell door in the rough woman’s stare. Instead of letting him in, dropping her guard, Emma becomes an icy force that sneers him down silently—brows drawn so tight he has no doubt that scowl has chased many men off before.

_      Well then. _

     He matches her stare at first, raising a brow curiously, until he realizes she’s on to his tactic. Debating for a beat or two how to approach her next, he lets his famous smarmy smirk return, and nods upward.

     “Shall we keep climbing then?”

     She doesn’t bother with a reply. Simply puts her calloused hands up onto the next twisted vine, and pulls.

 

*****

 

     Snow White stares at the stalk in front of her, hazel orbs glancing over to Mulan and Aurora while they try to rest. She still didn’t trust them, especially Mulan—who drove a stick into the ground to measure the passing hours before lying down. She isn’t sure what her and Emma had talked about before her daughter foolishly made her way up the knotted stem with Hook in tow, but she has a gut feeling she doesn’t like.

_      Not one bit. _

     She wants her child back by her side safe and sound--just like Charming.

     She misses him, so, so much.

_      Gods, David, how I wish you were here with us! _

     Talking to Aurora about the sleeping curse nightmares has reminded her of their early days, what they had of them, and how little time they had to be a couple. Let alone enjoy their family. If it wasn’t King George pursuing him, it was Regina still hell bent on her! They barely had more than a day or two reprieve before they were off again in battle, or hiding out somewhere to buy themselves extra strategic time.

_      Mary Margaret and David Nolan have experienced a far easier public affair than we ever did—including me being framed for murder. _

     Sigh.

_      Though I’m still upset with him that he doubted me. Granted, his false memories and his real memories were messing with his head, but still, I had hoped—no matter what life or world we would be in—Charming would always have faith in me. _

_      Of course, I slept with Doctor Whale so, really, it’s unfair for me to punish him in any way if we’re to compare cursed crimes. _

_      Dammit... _

_      I’m already tired of all the fighting, and scheming, and surviving. I just want to get back to him. To Henry. To a peaceful life where there are no giants, ogres, pirates and evil sorceress. Yes, this is my world, and I love it...but it doesn’t feel like home anymore... _


	3. Emma, Hook and a Giant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't note it previously, but yes, there is a bit of foul language in this story. Emma, as far as I'm concerned, could probably out swear a sailor. I feel it fits her personality. If it offends you, just mentally change the words to something Charlie Brown would say to make you feel more comfortable.

     Arms weary and hands sore, she finally crests the top of the beanstalk and jumps down into a ginormous stone courtyard. _Because, of course there's a castle in the sky...right?_ Catching her breath, she absorbs more of their surroundings, and realizes they are standing among ruins.

     “What the hell happened here?" Slowly walking about, she shivers at the countless scattered skeletons in sight, hoping like hell the stuff crunching beneath her boots are not dried out bone fragments.

    _I'm going to have nightmares for years._

     “This is where the final battle was fought,” Hook replies solemnly, turning her way. Noticing blood trickling down her left wrist, he motions towards it. “Give me your hand, luv.”

     “What?" She glances at the harsh torn apart callouses, and shakes her head. "No, it’s nothing.” She waves off his attempt to reach her.

     But like a typical pirate (if that's such a thing), he persists.     

     “No, let me see it,” he demands, catching her quickly with his curved appendage as she shifts to brush by him.

     “I said it’s fine its-”

     “Giant’s can smell blood,” he cuts in quietly, pulling her uncomfortably close. “So let me be a gentleman and take care of that for you.”

     Her brow crinkles, a frown tugging at her lips while her shoulders stiffen. She's about to yank free and tell him to fuck right off as she can take care of it herself, when he removes a flask from his belt--yanking the corked top out with his teeth. She barely has a second to guess what it might be, before he's pouring the content of it onto her wounds. Her would be assumption becomes instantly apparent as searing pain suddenly spreads from her palm and runs stickily off her forearm.

     “Ah! Oh! What the hell is that? Whiskey,” she snaps. _By the Gods it fucking burns!_

     “It’s rum,” he corrects, pulling her trembling wrist towards his face to get a better look. “A bloody waste of it now,” he adds in a murmur.

     Glowering, she jerks her hand away. _Wasted rum be damned!_ He frowns at her in turn, his patience starting to visibly wear thin. Digging a handkerchief out from inside her leather jacket, she wraps her hand up on her own, and steps away from his scowl. Creating some necessary distance between them. _Before I deck him one._

     “This is the plan,” he starts, all gentlemanly charm gone. “We’ll wait for the giant to fall asleep. When he does, we’ll sneak past him into his castle where his treasures is, where the compass should be, grab it, and run like hell back here to the stalk and hopefully back to your waiting allies.”

     Emma shakes her head in the negative. _That's not going to work. If I can't get in and get out soon, Mulan's gonna leave me here like I asked her to._

     “It's too much of a long shot. We could be stuck up here for hours,” she counters, clearing her throat, pulling the pouch of poppy dust the warrior had given her. “I say we draw him into the open to knock him out with this stuff, then smash and grab, and beat our asses back down that stalk.”

     He raises a questioning brow at her unfamiliar term.

     “That sounds far riskier.”

     “Than what, waiting on a sleeping giant?”

     He tilts his head curiously, eyes narrowing, studying her intently for a few beats. She recognizes the look. He's searching for her angle, trying to figure out her intentions and where he's concerned in it all.

     “Are you in or out,” she goads, trying to derail his suspicion by poking at his ego. “If you can’t do this, Captain Hook, the way down is right over there.”

     His lips thin out and his eyes harden. “Aye. Let’s do this then.”

     Game, set. _Good. Now we're on even ground._

 

*****

 

     Hook eyes the woman sitting atop the massive statue near the entrance to the Giant’s home. This, _Emma_ , truly is fearless, brave, and smarter than he first realized. She's caught on to him quickly. He has no doubt, if it was not for the others, she truly would have left him to the ogre. He likes that about her. He can tell, from their stilted conversation up the stalk, that this woman with long curls and forest eyes walks in the grey. She's no hero, nor is she like him, but she wouldn't hesitate to do what's needed when the time calls for it.

     Unfortunately, she's become guarded, more so than before. _Alas, I've been a bit careless. Showing my hand when I shouldn't have. With the right words, of course, I might be able to sway her back. Of course,_ he looks around at his current situation, _with a bit more caution_. He wrinkles his nose as he thinks back over the last couple minutes. _How the bloody hell am I playing the sacrificial lamb?_ He can't quite remember the conversation they had. _Damn those fierce eyes!_ He had been caught up in the way they reflected the colors around them to really pay attention to what she was saying.

  _All men have their weakness._

     His, is strong-willed women.

    _Shame we're on different sides._

     “Are you ready,” he finally calls out to her, receiving a faint _‘yeah’_ in return.

     Shaking his shoulders a bit to loosen the tension building in him, he walks over to the massive bronze shield resting nearby and raised the...femur? Finger bone? He shudders. _Does it really matter?_ Resetting his grip, he raised the bone high and strikes it down hard on the metal--once, twice, three times--the vibrations of the clamor rattling the ground.

 _There, that should do it. S_ miling, he turns his attention back to Emma, and waits.

 

*****

 

     She, meanwhile, damn near falls off the statue she had climbed earlier. When Hook started bashing the buckler like a frustrated guitarist at a punk rock festival, her sneakers began to slide against the smooth stone of the creature (person?) she was resting on. _Jesus!_ _Half the realm had to hear him!_ Shifting to secure her position, she quickly finds the ground rumbling once more, this time by something much bigger-- and roaring--as it approaches them from inside the stone structure.

    _Oh shit. I'm not ready for this. So, so not ready for this._

_Shit! Shit!!_

     And then, suddenly, there he was.

     The massive frightening bearded giant, who would fit right in at a renaissance festival (so not what she was expecting), stood large and angry in the doorway of his dwelling.

     “Oh dammit,” she groans, realizing she barely comes past his waist while in her current hiding spot. She has a good arm, but it isn’t that good. "We're so fucked."

  
*****

 

     Bone still in hand, Hook quickly gathers that they have a problem. _Well, two problems actually_. Not only is Emma too far from the giant's face to use the poppy dust, but he has no weapon for defense.  _Gods be damned!_ Eyes swinging about, he sneers at the lack of swords within reach, and finally decides he has but one option.

     Sigh.

    _I'm the bloody lamb after all._

     “Oy,” he shouts out to the towering menace, tossing the bone he was still gripping aside. “Hey, you big git!”

     Beady eyes dart his way with a growl.

     “Yeah you, huh,” he taunts, approaching the massive beast. “You want to kill a human? Huh? You want to kill a human? Well I’m the worst human around, so come on then!”

     The giant, easily provoked (much like him), turns and follows Hook as he leads him straight towards Emma.

  
*****

 

_What an idiot!_

     But it was working.

     All foolhardy aside, Hook's verbal barrage is drawing the large man right into her path. Scrambling to a standing position, she waits until the chubby cheeked fella reaches towards the Pirate with a snarl as if to pick him, and pelts him one. Unseen, right in the honker, with the sleeping dust.

 _Booyah! Emma, one. Big scary giant, zero!_ She beams, hands on her hips with a continued mental pat on her back--until she realizes the wavering giant with suddenly sleepy eyes, is about to collapse.

_Oh shit!_

     She barely has time to wrap her arms back around the statue before the ground quakes beneath her, dust and debris scattering in the wake. Eyes shut from the strain, she holds tight with gritting pain until the tremors stop. _Son of a bitch!_  The deafening roar of his unexpected slumber rings in her ears. It takes another minute or two for silence--save some slight snoring--to settle in. _Whew!_ Popping one eye, then the other, open, she pushes up from her crouching statue stranglehold.

     Her gaze sweeping the giant, she frowns a little.

     “Hook?” _Gods I hope he hasn't been squashed._ “Hook!”

    _Dammit!!_

     She's about to call out for him a third time, when she hears-     

     “He’s out cold.” Standing up from his spot beside the bigger man’s right hip, he glares. “I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I’ll be damned if I play the sacrificial lamb next time.”

      _Of course._    

     Rolling her eyes, she nods in begrudged understanding. “Fine. Let’s go steal a compass.”


	4. Regina & Henry

     “I’m sorry about Daniel,” Henry whispers softly, tucked up to his chin in Emma's twin bed, wearing his favorite superhero pajamas. The sheets are mismatched, the pillow a bit lumpy, and every time he shifts the damn thing creaks. But he doesn't seem to care. It smells like Emma, and it's exactly what he obviously needs right now.

     She's thankful her eyes are too dry to cry at this point. Reaching out from her chair beside him, she brushes his hair back gently--like she use--and gives a sad smile. “Thank you.” The words are soft, but they echo deeply from the warmth in her heart that only Henry can create. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulls back, and begins fiddling with her fingers, eyes focused on Daniel’s ring. “I’m sorry, for what happened at the stables today." She glances nervously at a solemn hazel gaze. "I never wanted you to be in a situation where you could get hurt.” Distress pulls her features taunt. “I hope you know that.”

      _Because I love you more than anything in this world._

     He nods slightly, giving her a hesitant shy smile, but it vanishes quickly. The memories are too fresh, finger marks having left faint bruises on his neck, and he's scared to talk about it anymore than they already have. The warmth in her heart weeps, breaking with the desire to sooth him. To crawl into that bed and help make it all go away. But she's afraid he'll protest, pull from any prolonged contact, and she just can't handle that kind of rejection right now.

      _Oh what a mess we have become, my sweet prince._

     Silence falls for a beat.

     Before Henry breaks it once more.

     “Is he..?” The unfinished question hangs heavy between them, his teeth sinking in to his lower lip, his feet restless beneath the covers.

     She can hear the rest of his unspoken words like a gun shot in her mind, rattling against the walls of her skull. _'What has become of your first love? Is he gone? For good?'_ She can practically smell the panic drifting from her son, fear of what this loss might do to her gripping his little spine.

     “He’s gone,” she croaks out in affirmation, digits interlocking each other tightly to keep herself from visibly shaking. Or reaching out to grasp Henry too tightly. “I’ve placed his ashes in an urn. T-tomorrow I will lay Daniel to rest,...where he belongs.”

      _Like you should have long ago,_ Rumple's voice snaps as a phantom against her ears.

     She winces at the ghost of him in her chaotic mind.

     .....Another stifling silence....Henry deep in thought, and her trying desperately not to ache so damn much.

     “Under the apple tree?” His raspy inquiry breaks the tension. His gaze so kind, so sympathetic, that she can only bite her lip and nod.

      _Yes. Under her apple tree. He would no doubt like it there._

      Her throat is swelling from the grief of everything she's lost the last few days. Clearing it, trying to push back at the consuming wave, she turns her attention to the room they are in--desperate to collect herself. She lets her hazel orbs roam the little sparse decorations, the nicknacks lying about here and there that have always been in place since the curse. The few articles of clothing. The bag and box loaded with items.  _Almost as if Emma is uncertain of her place...._ Then she remembers. The blonde had been packed to leave when Henry tried his last ditch effort at proving his beliefs true by eating the apple turn over. 

     She shakes her head. _If only I had done something else.....anything else....._ Glancing out the nearest window at the dark sky, her shoulders drop with a shaky breath. She's ready for the day to be over. Henry needs his rest, David's already asleep downstairs, and the sun will be back up far sooner than any of them would like. For now, she needs to just do what she can, and move forward with step she has to take.

     Turning back to her son, she adjusts the bedding around him, and runs her fingers through his hair one last time. “I know you are afraid to sleep, Henry, but I promise you, David and I both will be right here. You have nothing to worry about." Her heart constricts at the lie. "If your dreams get too scary, all you have to do is wake up, and you’ll see me sitting right here. Ok?”

     He releases an apprehensive sigh, seeming so small to her in that moment, but nods in understanding. “Ok.”

     Giving him one of her rare half smiles, she clicks the lamp next to them off--letting the soft glow slowly fade until they are shadowed in darkness. As he burrows further into the mattress, she lets go of a weary sigh, and settles as comfortably as possible into her seat.

      _By the Gods, I don't know how I'm going to emotionally make it through all of us._

_If it wasn’t for Henry.....right now I would be standing on a cliff somewhere preparing to jump. Or be a decanter deep into my cider so I can just be numb and stop all this... feeling!_

      _Why?_

_Why did Doctor Whale have to bring Daniel back?_

  _If he hadn’t come at me so demanding--interrupting my session with Dr. Hopper--I would have taken his request into consideration. Maybe. Nevertheless, his asinine behavior was completely uncalled for. I owe the man nothing. Nothing! He has been a cruel manipulator who promised something he could not deliver on....or....wasn’t willing to until now._

     The sudden thought circles her mind, tugging on memories from long ago. _What does Storybrooke posses that the Enchanted Forest does not? Advanced technology? Medicine? IS there a difference? Or did that bastard lie to me before?_  That begged another question. _And what the hell had he done with the heart I had given him before?_ Jefferson had been the one to bring her to him. She had trusted in his word, in their mutual association.

     She had been a fool.     

     Eyes hardening, she suppresses the urge to growl vocally in frustration.

    _Clearly I had truly been the naive Queen mother accused me of if I was so effortlessly conned by two conceded men who thought me an easy target._

     Still...

    _What did either of them get out of it? Neither are smart enough to pull such a stunt so efficiently on their own._

_No, they had been apart of a much bigger scheme._

_One of mother’s?_

_Or Rumples?_

   Sigh.

     A bitter frown pulls her pout down. _It matters not either way_. She's been a pawn on a chessboard since before her conception, and the only life she has ever truly lived that's her own is here in Storybrooke. Lifting her sore eyes to caress over the boy that once gave her everything, she swallows away the rising lump in her throat. He's the one thing, out of all her choices, that feels like she did something _right._ Henry may not be her’s by birth, but he holds a large chunk of her soul, just as any biological child could. She's convinced, sitting there in the shades of black and grey, that he's the glue keeping her together right now.

     So she wonders....If she hopes, if she works hard enough at doing right by him--at being good--that maybe he will be the one to repair her. That _his love_ will be the one Danial had asked her to find again.

  _Yes.....I can easily live with that._

     Cora may have never known how to love, or show it properly, but she'll be damned if she intends to repeat the same mistakes. Henry _will_ be loved, to the moon and back, and beyond. He's her little prince, her family, her world.

    _And I won't abandon him--no matter what._


	5. Emma, Hook and the Compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't quite sure how I expected Emma and Hook's little adventure to go down. That's normally how I write. I just let the situations flow and so long as the actions and events are true to each character's nature, I let it be. This was a surprise for me as much as it may be for some of you.

     Emma eyed the stacks beyond stacks of treasured items within the Giant’s cave, which more resembled something out of Tolkien than Pirate’s of the Caribbean, and wondered how the hell they were going to find a single compass in all of it. Jack Sparrow she was not. And neither was Hook who was currently drifting between piles with that  _ ‘ooh shiny _ ’ look in his wild eyes. 

     “Do you have any idea exactly where this compass is suppose to be,” she called out to the scruffy man behind her. He had stopped to literally smell some coins.

     “Not a clue, love,” he murmured in response, taking a few said coins and shoving them into a pocket within his vest. “We’ll just have to look around.”

     “I can see now Cora was the brains of this little endeavor,” Emma muttered to herself, placing her hands on her hips in frustration. 

     “What was that,” he asked, pocketing an emerald necklace and a few rings before turning towards her.

     “How long do you think knockout dust lasts,” she asked, her temper flaring at his apathetic attitude. 

     Hook shrugged in response. “As you recall, I wanted t’ wait until the giant fell asleep. You,” he pointed towards her with his hook, “were the one who wanted to rush things.” He narrowed his eyes at her and moved a little closer. “Why exactly was that, Swan?”

     “Because I have no intentions of being away from my son any longer than necessary,” she replied smoothly, knowing the truth of the statement would overshadow her other reasoning.

     Hook hummed noncommittally in response, then swept his eyes away from her, finally surveying the room without gold lust clouding his vision. 

     “If I were to wager a guess,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “I’d imagine the giant would want to keep it close, somewhere safe from prying eyes.” He turned back to her, hand sweeping out in gesture, encompassing the room. “The compass is of legend, Emma, it’s not something you would simply leave lying around in all of this.”

     “Shit,” Emma sighed, her thoughts scattering a mile a minute as Hook’s words sank in.

     “What?”

     “I think I know where the compass is at,” she replied warily, eyes meeting his curious gaze. “And I know why Cora was insistent to be here.” He raised a brow at that. “The safest place most people think to keep something--”

     “Is on themselves,” Hook finished for her, realizing himself why Cora had wanted to be present. “Bloody witch,” he snarled, his own temper flaring.

     “I’m a damn good pickpocket, but I’ve never picked a giant before,” Emma humored, needing to get Hook back in check. His displeasure with Cora was good, she was going to need that later, but not at this moment. “Especially a sleeping one at that.”

     Eyes lighting up at the implication of her past, Hook stroked his chin in delight and leaned towards her, brows waggling. “Then allow me the pleasure, love.”

  
  


     Emma took in the giant still lying face down where he had fallen just outside of his home. Short of his massive size and growling nature, he didn’t seem that fearsome to her. Of course she couldn’t stop glancing at the scattered bones around them so she figured he was much like a wild bear--cute when sedated but not something you’d want to tangle with.

     “Right then,” Hook said, looking the man over, crouching a bit near where his shirt fell open enough to reveal a necklace he was wearing. “A pocket we must find, eh?”

     “Well does it look like he’s wearing it.” Emma asked, eyeing the giant up from the other side. His face kept twitching and every few seconds he would mumble something unintelligible. She was worried they were quickly running out of time.

     “Nay,” came his distracted reply and she wondered what exactly about the necklace had his attention.

     She was startled from her thought, however, when the big man shifted, drawing one of his arms up closer towards his head. She had to stumble back out of the way while Hook had ducked and rolled out from the path of the sleepy limb before it settled where he had been standing.

     “We’re running out of time,” Emma said, shaking her head in frustration. “We need to get him on a side or his back asap.”

     “Asap,” Hook asked curiously. Half the time he wondered if she was speaking in some kind of code with all her odd words.

     “As soon as possible,” she explained, walking back over to the giant’s face, studying it intently. The thought floating through her mind was risky, she knew, but she was done wasting time.

     Without second guessing herself, Emma reached out and ran her fingers through the hairs of the giant’s beard just below his nose. They were much softer than she expected, but the action got the desired effect as the man’s face suddenly scrunched and he wiggled his nose. Backpeddling out of the way, she watched as he stretched his body out, kind of like Henry does when he’s half asleep, then rolled onto his right side--the ground around them trembling a little at the movement--exposing his front to them.

     “Good work, love,” Hook said as he quickly joined her in feeling around for any open pockets in the dress robe the man was wearing.

     Emma could tell by the way the massive fella under their hands kept twitching that he would soon be waking up. As she searched for the compass, she glanced at Hook, wondering what needed to be done next where he was concerned. In another life, she likely would have given him a chance, the same way she had let another dashing man full of himself do so. She believed there was no true good or true evil, everyone was just a shade of right or wrong choices and morality existed in the circumstances of the moment.

     But she had been down that road, more than once, and she had always managed to get burned. Be it coworker, friend or lover, she had never been able to have stable healthy relationships--until Storybrooke--and Emma could not afford to have Henry get caught up in something because of a poor choice on her part.

     “Aha!” 

     Hook’s triumphant voice caught her off guard and she whirled to find him near the man’s chest, his robe parted partially to reveal a tunic underneath where the pirate was pulling a chained compass from.

     “A sweet reward,” the man beamed at her as he stepped away from the giant and motioned the compass towards her. “Is it not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

     Relief washing over her, Emma approached Hook cautiously, giving him a soft teary smile and looked at the wonder in his hand. It was beautiful, aesthetically, but it was what it could offer her that made it more grand in her eyes. Reaching out gently, she placed her left hand over it, letting her fingers stroke against the side of Hook’s hand, and looked up at the now captivated man.

     “Hook, I...,” she started, words choking in her throat.

     “I’d never let you down, Swan,” he said to her softly, drawing her and the compass closer.

     Another time, another place.

     But not today.

     “I know,” she whispered softly, making sure to keep his eyes on hers. “Which is why I’m sorry.”

     Hook tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowed in confusion at her words before he caught on, but it was too late. Emma was faster than he had anticipated, the knee suddenly striking his groin hard and blinding. Buckling at the painful hit, he cried out and tried to push her away while still holding onto the compass but a swinging right fist caught him by surprise and her conflicted face was the last thing he saw before darkness overtook him.

     “I’m truly sorry,” Emma whispered, chest heaving as she watched the man drop to the unconscious. "I just can't afford to trust you."

     She never liked to use that tactic, it was unfair and often uncalled for in her mind. But all she could keep thinking was that he was a pirate, in leagues with Cora, he was likely about to cut her down with his Hook had she not struck first, and she had to get back to Henry.

     Hearing the giant beside her snort in agitation at all the commotion, Emma quickly pocketed the compass then reached down and grabbed Hook by his forearms. She may have to leave him here, but that didn’t mean she had to get him unintentionally killed. Dragging the surprisingly lightweight man over to a stack of crumbled bricks, she hoisted him up enough to deposit him out of sight over the side of one, letting him be swallowed up by the shadows for cover.

     Spotting a sword near by, she also dropped it in beside him, hoping to at least give him a fighting chance should he come face to face with the still resting giant when he awoke. With a parting glance, Emma double checked her pocket for the compass, then made a mad dash for the beanstalk, hoping like hell she had enough time to get down before Mulan began to chop at it.


	6. David

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the holiday weekend is over, let's get back to posting chapters. This is my take on how I feel Charming was dealing with everything. I think he's a lot like Emma, a bit situational and matter of fact and when things don't add up he simply does what he can to keep moving forward.

     David blinked all bleary-eyed at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen. 5:15 a.m. He had managed to get roughly six hours of sleep, give or take--he had startled himself awake more times than he could remember--while Regina watched over Henry. He was sure he heard the boy scream at least once, but the husky tones of his mother had apparently soothed him back to sleep and David had fallen back into his own restless sleep soon after.

     He sighed wearily.

     This wasn’t at all how he imagined things would be. 

     He had hoped, once the curse was broken, that he and Snow would have their daughter back in peace and quiet, finally getting to be the family he always wanted. He loved Henry, he did, but his adult daughter having a son and he being a grandfather sharing parental duties with the tentatively former Evil Queen had not been apart of those hopes. 

     Snow and Emma being gone from him had not been a factor as well.

     He knew his wife. He knew how brave, fearless and reckless she could be. And though he didn’t know Emma real well, he imagined she was a good mix of himself and Snow--which probably meant she was as brave, bold and the  _ ‘act before thinking’ _ type that he often was.

     He had to trust that they were staying safe, that they were looking for a way back to him just as much as he was looking for one. He had to believe Snow and Emma could be a powerful team together, that they would be unstoppable no matter what crossed their path. He had to have hope. Because it was the only thing keeping him going at this point.

     “Are you going to continue staring at the coffee pot like it will magically serve you itself or will you be getting a cup and moving,” came a gravelly voice near him, startling him out of his thoughts.

     Turning to glare at Regina who looked even worse than she had yesterday, David, finally poured his cup of coffee and moved to the kitchen island out of her Majesty’s way so she could get her own. 

     “How was Henry,” he asked, his own voice rough from sleep.

     He watched as Regina’s shoulders slumped and her head bowed a little lower at his question while doctoring her coffee. 

     “Tired,” she finally replied, turning to join him at the little counter-top. “He woke up at least twice from the same nightmare and whimpered off and on through the night.” She shook her head, her own features as haggard as his felt. “I soothed him the best I could, he even let me crawl into bed with him at one point to hold him, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

     Silence drifted between them as the sun slowly started peeking into the living room windows. He didn’t know how to deal with mother Regina, not on a basis like this. He trusted it, deep in his gut he knew Henry was in no danger from this side of the Queen at least. But he and Regina had a long twisted unpleasant history that couldn’t be easily forgotten.

     “When I had nightmares as a boy,” he spoke up, breaking the tension between them, “my mother would light a candle beside my bed to help chase the bad dreams away while we talked about them.” His eyes swept up the steps in the loft to the partially shut door above. “I use to do the same with Snow, when she had bad dreams.”

     “My mother was the one who gave me my nightmares,” Regina responded matter of fact, her eyes glaring into her coffee cup, lost--he assumed--in unpleasant memories. A few unsteady seconds passed before she blinked, drawing herself out of her thoughts and glanced at him. “It’s worth a shot, I’ll try to remember it next time.” She paused, then added softly, “Thank you.”

     David simply nodded.

     Another uncomfortable silence fell between them and he let his thoughts wander, drifting from Snow and Emma and how to get them home, to the town and what reports he was going to have to check out today as acting Sheriff, and then to Henry who would have to get up soon for school.

     The unexpected sound of running water brought him back from his internal musings and he turned to see Regina placing her clean mug back on the dish rack by the sink. He watched as she domestically wiped her hands dry on a dish towel then squared her shoulders in a way he had seen Mayor Mills from his cursed memories do once or twice before.

     Turning towards the stairs, she paused and shifted slightly his way before speaking.

     “I intend to bury...Daniel, today. Henry and I decided that my apple tree would be the best place for him.” She paused to fidget with the ring on her finger before looking up to meet his eyes. “I would appreciate it if I was not disturbed while doing so. And...if you could, that you would bring Henry there after school so he could say...goodbye...as well.”

     He was disturbed at the vulnerability practically vibing off the woman before him. This, he had to acknowledge, was likely the Regina that both Emma and Snow saw beneath the masks of hateful glares, sharp cutting words, and violent outbursts. He didn’t know how to handle this Regina anymore than he did the motherly one. The woman was too complex for him, a shade of personalities he didn’t know how to comprehend.

     So taking a page from his daughter and Snow’s book, he nodded his head in agreement and watched as the woman visibly sighed in relief before turning and heading back up the iron steps towards Henry.


	7. Snow, Drama, and Emma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew one episode could take seven chapters to rewrite? Whew. On we go!

     Snow White sat near the beanstalk listening to Aurora breath calmly for once, her head resting in her lap where she had let her place it after waking earlier from horrid nightmares. She felt for the young princess, she truly did. The inescapable room of glass and fire was one of the worst places she herself had ever experienced.

     Shoulders hunched in bent up tension, Snow glanced up at the stalk and wondered for probably the thousandth time if Emma was alright. They had waited all through the night and into most of the morning for her, anxiously expecting her to drop down from the twisted green monstrosity at any moment.

     Mulan had begun pacing not long after sunrise, staring at the stick she had shoved into the ground, raising her hackles at each frustrated huff and pass. She had claimed it was to measure time, but Snow was beginning to think she wasn’t counting the hours of daylight they had.

     The warrior from a far away land made yet another pass, glaring at the stick like staring down an enemy, before releasing an unsteady breath and turning on heel away.

     When she unexpectedly drew her sword, stomping over towards the beanstalk, Snow felt her heart drop and quickly moved Aurora off her lap, bolting towards the other woman.

     “Whoa, wait! What are you doing,” she yelled, racing towards her.

     Mulan spun back around, sword pointed warningly in her face. “Just stay back! Emma gave me ten hours,” she began explaining.

     “No! No, no no!” Snow panicked, hands raised appeasingly.

_      What the hell was going on?! _

     “Wait, you’re just going to leave her to die,” cut in a distraught Aurora from Snow’s side. She had been jolted awake by her sudden displacement.

     “Ten hours,” Mulan repeated as if that was answer enough, eyes darting between the two princesses. “And she may already be dead.”

     Snow couldn’t accept that.

     She _wouldn’t_ accept the reality of Mulan’s words!

     Obviously refusing to hear them out, the warrior suddenly turned again and struck the beanstalk with her magical sword--the reverberation traveling up the stalk and out around them as Aurora screamed at her to stop.

     The audacity of her actions spiraled Snow into a murderous rage. As Mulan raised her sword to strike again, she let out a scream of her own and barreled her body towards her--slamming into the other woman--knocking them both to the ground. 

     “Stop! Stop,” screamed Aurora helplessly behind them.

     “It was your daughter’s wish,” snarled Mulan as she rolled herself and Snow until she was atop of her, attempting to pin her down with a forearm across the throat.

     But Snow wasn’t to be bested by her. Pushing her aside and flipping their positions, she spat right back, “I don’t care what she said! You do not put my daughter in danger!”

     “Stop,” a fourth voice suddenly shouted, startling all three of them.

     Spinning around, they watched Emma miraculously drop down wearily from the damaged, trembling stalk, as if she had been summoned by their distress.

     Snow felt her heart stop in a mix of dread and delight as she watched her daughter land on her back in an exhausted heap on the ground.

     “Emma!”

     Scrambling off of Mulan, she raced over, quickly kneeling to help pull Emma back up onto her tired feet. “Are you ok?”

     “Two earthquakes and a jump from a beanstalk, I think my brain’s still rattling around.” she replied hoarsely, letting Snow support her briefly as she gathered herself.

     “I did what you ordered,” Mulan cut in as she approached them, glancing between Emma and Snow, justifying her actions. “Nothing more than that.”

     Snow glared at her, but the warrior reverted her attention back to Emma as she put her sword away.

     “Did you get it?”

     “Yep,” Emma replied, pulling the compass out for everyone to look at.

     Aurora, her eyes sweeping around them, stuttered as she asked, “Wh-where’s Hook?”

     “Napping,” Emma replied, ready to be on her way. “Now let’s go. Go get your stuff gathered, I don’t know how long we’ll have before he or the giant wake up.”

     As Mulan and Aurora walked off to quickly collect their things, Snow turned towards her daughter, hands on her hips as they both still struggled to settle themselves.

     “Did you tell Mulan to cut the stalk down,” she asked, emotions raging between anger and relief.

     “Yes,” Emma replied, eyes pleading for understanding. “I couldn’t risk-”

     “We go back together,” Snow cut in adamantly, reaching out and gripping Emma’s arms firmly, shaking her a little in her frustration. “That is the only way! Do you understand?”

     Regret lining her face, Emma suddenly pulled Snow into a hug, holding her tightly as she whispered, “yeah,” in return.

     Caught off guard but pleasantly so, Snow breathed a sigh of relief, returning the hug just as tightly. “Good.”

     Her mind finally turning to the tasks at hand while they remained in each other’s arms, she said, “Now all we have to do is get that dust from Cora.”

     “And finally go home,” Emma finished, giving her own sigh of relief. 


	8. Regina & Daniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning--this scene is filled with a lot of grief, hell I wrote it and it choked me up, so if you aren't ready for that, you can skip this.
> 
> Sigh. When I think of Daniel and Regina's relationship, two songs come to mind--"Cosmic Love" and "Leave My Body", both by Florence + The Machine. For me, they are the definition of them, of how their demise spiraled Regina out of control. The words are painful, honest, hollow and soul breaking. I would, of course, recommend checking them out if you have not heard them yet. The moods, I feel, support this scene. Also, if you are looking to further torment yourself, you should follow them up with "Round my Hometown" by Adele because, even though these are Daniel and Regina's songs, I think the third song pulls them towards Emma and allows you to sense how Regina could easily compare the person Daniel was, to the woman Emma is.
> 
> Otherwise, try not to let this gut you too deeply.

     Regina did her best to keep her knees from buckling under her as she gently placed the black ceramic and bronze urn under her apple tree. The air was dewy around her, blades of grass still being clung tightly by teardrops of moisture, and she felt like she was a young girl again--caught up in a field from long ago staring down at the remains of the man she had lost. The emotions that had once swallowed her whole swirled around her--grief, anger, abandonment and hopelessness--making her hands tremble as she settled the urn into place.

     “I’m so sorry,” she choked out, tears slowly trickling from her anguished eyes. She closed them tightly, biting her bottom lip hard to keep the sobs struggling to break free from coming out harsh and loud.

_      Gods, everything just hurts so much! _

     A soft breeze scented by the sea drifted in around her--caressing her skin with tender brushes--and Regina sobbed out a broken laugh at herself. All she wanted to do in that moment was curl up next to Daniel and her tree and just let the summer wind comfort her.

_      ‘Grief forever reshapes us.’ _

     Archie’s words from her last visit rose unbidden in her mind.

_      ‘It’s not something you get over, or come back from unchanged. It’s meant to leave marks, much like a stream or a river can change the shape of a valley,’  _ he had continued, sitting on the coffee table in his office in front of her with eyes far too painfully aware of the truths in his words.  _ ‘How we take that loss, how we process it and apply the lessons we have learned from it is up to us. We can let it consume us,’  _ he noted delicately and Regina had bowed her head in acknowledgement of her past deeds. _ ‘Or we can allow it to give us strength, to push us to be open and vulnerable but sturdy to the potentials around us.’ _

     She had no desire to accept his words at the time, too striped to her core and full of chaotic emotions to even consider accepting Daniel’s death as a good thing.

_      ‘You have to let me go.’ _

     Now, however, his words were on constant loop and, as guilty as she felt, Regina yearned to be free of it all--to let the disaster that was her past life finally go and move on. She had been without it all for twenty eight years and she wanted that semblance of peace back. Slowly rising to her feet, taking in deep shuddering breaths, Regina’s thoughts bounced again back to yesterday.

_      ‘I want you to do something,’  _ Archie had requested, taking his glasses off to carefully wipe at them.  _ ‘I want you to tell Daniel how you feel, about everything. Tell him about all the emotions and thoughts stored up within you, there will be no one to judge you, no matter what you reveal, except yourself and it’s time, Regina, that you let yourself heal, that you finally let this all go.’ _

     So here she stood--under her childhood tree with Daniel once again--with a torrent of emotions she needed to be rid of.

     “I love you,” she whispered, much like her teenage self had once done. “You are unlike any person I have ever know.” Tears were running freely down her cheeks now, but she just smiled sadly and pushed on. “You are loving, and kind, and everything I have ever wanted.”

     “But you aren’t perfect,” she acknowledged with a shuddering breath, her smile slipping. “You are passive, easily ready to just walk away from a situation instead of fighting back. Much like my father.” She felt a chill of regret run across her skin at her admission. “I suppose, like any princess, I wanted a knight, brave and bold and capable of taking me away from my unpleasant life--from my mother.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes as she began to pace, her thoughts and emotions bubbling up in her throat now that she was letting them loose.

     “You failed me in that regard, but I couldn’t hate you for it, I could never not love you, Daniel, you were the one rare good thing in my life.”

_ But not anymore _ , her mind supplied and she echoed the words aloud.

     “But not anymore. My...my relationship with Henry isn’t perfect right now, and that’s my fault. I clung to him too tightly, I lost sight of the kind of love I wanted, and the kind that he deserves.” She stopped her pacing and faced the urn and tree again. “But unlike you I don’t just fall back and wait for things to sort themselves out, or run away hoping to start again. I’m very brutally aware that your past is apart of you. It can either follow you around like a ghost--haunting you at every turn--or you can own it like a scar and wear it proudly to show you are fallible, but growing.”

     Shoulders slouching, Regina sighed and shook her head sadly. “All I wanted was to be happy, Daniel, to live a simple life, to be free.” Her eyes roamed the buildings around them, her ears picking up the sound of traffic in the distance, the smell of the ocean on the breeze. “Honestly I don’t think we ever had a chance back in the Enchanted Forest. The odds were stacked too high against us.”

     Releasing another steady breath, she began her pacing once more. It always helped to calm her when she felt like she was all over the place emotionally and mentally.

     “Here, however, in this town with these...people, I truly believe I have a chance, that I have an opportunity to be something more than the...Evil Queen. It will take work,” she said, nodding her head to herself. “And it won’t be easy. But if they are all willing to try, to start again, so am I.” Stopping mid-stride, she let her eyes fall regretfully to the urn. “You were never meant for this place. It’s all so different and it would never have been all the things you wanted, I realize that now.”

     Kneeling, pushing loose strands of her hair back behind her ears, she reached out and laid her hand lovingly on the cool ceramic. “I will never forget you,” she whispered gently. “You will always, always be the most precious thing I ever had once upon a time.” She sniffled as a new set of tears threatened to break again. “And I promise to do as you asked, to...move on, to love again. It will take time but...” Her words trailed off.

     They were the hardest words she ever had to say and here she was, repeating them for the second time in her life. What felt like hours, but were likely only minutes, ticked by one by one as she struggled to find the strength, to gather the courage to let them out.

     Eventually, she felt them tumble free of their own accord, rattling her ears painfully with their whispered harshness.

     “Goodbye Daniel.”

     Shutting her eyes tight against the familiar sense of loss washing over her, Regina felt an unexpected weight suddenly lift from her shoulders, and a halting laugh broke free from her at the reality that Doctor Hopper had been right all along.


	9. Ruby, Grumpy, Trouble and Magic pt1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making this next series of events a two--possibly three--part chapter. I'm setting a lot into motion and I don't want to post something incredibly long that jumps between a number of people until it culminates. Like I've said previously, all the characters introduced to us in Season 1 are going to have their stories resolved here. I'm a big believer of keeping your cast small, but since Once likes to throw a number of people on the board, I'm going to have to clean them up so we have a solid story-line.
> 
> On with it then.

     Ruby watched from her spot by the diner windows as Storybrooke slowly drifted awake, the first of their patrons sleepily making their way down the street towards Granny’s door. She nibbled on her lower lip nervously--twisting the rings on her fingers to the point her digits were starting to rub sore--as smells that were once faint began to assault her senses. Her body trembled a little as she picked up sweat, sea salt, some funky-ass cologne, leather, denim, and the light pitter patter rhythm of approaching heartbeats.

_No. No, no no, no! She can’t do this. She cannot do this!_

     Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her body out, willing it to calm down with the mantra of _‘let it go, let it go’_ , ringing in her head.

     “Red?”

     The tender voice of her Grandmother drifting across the diner snapped her out of her distress, drawing her head around to look back at the older woman standing by the service counter. She tried to hide her conflict with a wide smile, but it slipped from her face as the older woman gave her a sympathetic tight-lipped look in return.

     Tears burned at the back of her eyes but she willed herself not to cry.

     “I just,” she cleared her throat, gesturing towards the approaching customers. She was at a loss for words in what to excuse.

     “Maybe you should take the day off,” Granny suggested gently, eyes knowing. “I’m sure I’ll have enough help with everyone getting back into their old routines.”    

     Ruby took a deep breath, considering her Granny's words, but eventually squared her shoulders instead. “No.” Raising her head, she said as much to herself as she did her grandmother, “I managed once before, I can do so again.”

     Nodding her head slowly in understanding, Granny watched as Ruby turned and opened the door to the first set of customers, greeting them with a smile that only she could see the pain behind. Eyes sweeping her diner thoughtfully, she headed back towards her cluttered office and reached for her phone. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the calendar on the wall--today’s date scribbled heavily in red--and called David.

*****

     Grumpy paused outside the mine, watching as his brothers descended into the depths with chatter and early morning laughter. Taking in a deep breath, his broody eyes glanced at the treeline surrounding them, double checking that they had not been followed. Fingers rubbing thoughtfully against the handle of his pickaxe, he wondered about Snow and Emma--how they were doing, if they were ever going to make it back. He mused if Sister Astri--if Nova was up yet or not and if she would be available for lunch.

     He also questioned Prince Charming’s recent actions, letting that witch near Henry, entrusting her with his safety. As far he was concerned, Emma should have let that Wraith pull Regina back to wherever the hell they went. It would have saved them a whole lot of trouble as he had no doubt that the Evil Queen was likely scheming something up in her supposed retreat.

     “Hey, Grumpy,” Happy called from the mine entrance, pulling him from his contemplation. “Are you coming or what?”

     Taking one last look around, he nodded and walked towards his brother, patting him hard on the back and giving him a cheshire grin. “Let’s find us some fairy dust.”

*****

     “I thought a wizard gave you the cloak,” said David as he stood just outside of Henry’s school facing the older woman. They had agreed to meet while he dropped his grandson off personally at the front doors (since he had a habit of sneaking away).

     Granny huffed and rolled her eyes. “Considering who Snow was in hiding from, I didn’t think it was wise to reveal the truth.”

     David frowned as he glanced around them, making sure no one was listening in to their conversation.

     “I don’t know,” he replied to the request she had made as soon as she had approached him. “I promised that she wouldn’t be disturbed today. She’s...taking care of a personal matter.”

     “We’ve all had a lot to deal with,” Granny acknowledged, releasing a deep breath. “But if we don’t nip this in the butt before nightfall, we’re going to have a serious crisis on our hands and a whole lot of regret.”

     “But if you interrupt her she’ll likely compound the situation just because she can,” David remarked, shaking his head. Releasing a deep sigh, he stared thoughtfully down the street towards the direction of the diner where Ruby was working her morning shift. “Still, you’re right. For Red’s sake, we need to be sure.”

     Nodding her head grimly, Eugenia Lucas turned and followed Prince Charming towards City Hall.

******

**_Forty Years ago - Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Widow Lucas turned, eyes roaming, nose twitching at the dark woods around her. The last thing she needed was to be followed by some nosy villager. A light mist settling upon her cloak, she turned back to the lone path ahead of her illuminated by faint moonlight and continued her trek onward. The coins secured in a satchel over her shoulder rattled every now and then on the rocky terrain, the trail not one normally meant for people.

     She had traded just about every family heirloom she had ever kept at the market a day’s hike back the opposite way. She had hoped for more, but she knew it wasn’t wise to carry a noticeable load. She had no time for wannabe thieves and scoundrels. Pushing some branches out of her way, she wondered for the hundredth time that night if Red was behaving herself for the Haymakers. She had hated to leave the girl behind, but this trip into town wasn’t like their yearly ones.

     Hearing a faint sound in the distance, Widow Lucas stopped mid-stride and looked up towards the crest of the hill she was currently climbing. Tilting her head slightly, she sniffed the air and listened, surprised to catch the whinnying of a horse and faint hoofs pounding their way towards her. The moon, though shadowed by clouds, was high to the right in the sky, signaling that it was far closer to the sun rising once more than it had been when it had set.

     No one should be out this late, especially not on horseback.

     No one good, anyways.

     Hunkering low, Widow Lucas slowly climbed up the rest of the way, making sure to be careful with each step she took so not to give herself away. The footfalls of the horse approaching ever closer, she nestled herself against a rock and tree--hidden as far into the shadows of both as she could get--and peered out into an unexpected open field.

     There, back-lit by night sky and surrounded by the treeline, was a young woman galloping through the grass--turning her steed every now and then as if running an imaginary obstacle course. The pair, bounding near her now--leaping over one log then the next--moved in a rhythm that she had only ever seen master Equestrian’s perfect.

     This woman, whoever she was, was no commoner out on a late night trip.

*****

_**Present** _

     Regina sat on her dark blanket on the ground, her body bent, her red rimmed eyes staring intently up at her tree. The area that had once held an additional limb was now smooth and teardrop shaped, the wood under the bark exposed to the elements around it. She felt her lip curl slightly in anger at the reminder of what Emma Swan had done to her precious tree. She had spent hours after that encounter salvaging as many apples as she could and shaving the damaged area down until it looked like it had never existed.

      _Brute_ , she thought bitterly of the woman, a cascade of emotions flickering to life inside of her.

     The last couple hours she had talked to Daniel about the curse, this town, Henry, and his insufferable biological mother. How that woman managed to get under her skin with merely a look boggled Regina’s mind--not to mention all the conflicting emotions she stirred within her. No one, not even Snow White herself, had ever been able to rapidly piss Regina off in one second and gain her respect in the next.

     Truly, the woman was a conundrum.

     Like her parents, she was overly hopefully and often acted impulsively--much to Regina’s displeasure. Yet, unlike the idiots, she wasn’t trying to be noble and she wasn't ignorant of the world they lived in. It wasn’t a matter of black and white to her, it was shades of grey and her actions showed it.

     She had readily believed the Savior when she had threatened to kill her if they were unsuccessful in saving Henry.

     She had also trusted her word that she wasn’t going to let her die after the Wraith had first attacked.

     That had been....well, Regina wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that quite yet.

     Whether she liked the other woman or not, she had to acknowledge that Emma had done well as Sheriff, better than Graham ever had, and she was certainly more capable than her father currently holding the position. Granted, she had to push the other woman to step up at times, and Gods know she wasn’t fond of turning a report in on time. But she was skilled, smarter than Regina would ever give her credit for aloud, and a true asset to this town.

     Of course none of it mattered at the moment since the woman had foolishly pushed her out of the path of that hideous soul sucking reaper, and had managed to get herself pulled down with it into Jefferson’s hat.

     Subconsciously, Regina flexed her fingers, her magic stirring at the memories of them trying to get the hat to work. She shivered at the way it crept up her arms, warming her skin. She swore she could almost still feel the phantom hand of the blonde Sheriff still resting on her right bicep.

     Almost as if she had burned her print upon her.


	10. Trouble and Magic pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter and more multiple scenes. Things are building up! Enjoy!

**_Enchanted Forest - Present Day_ **

 

     Cora stared up at the massive beanstalk in front of her, impressed by the way it twisted into itself--knotting and climbing high above. Even with the deep magical gash across its one side, it still held itself sturdy and strong as ever. It was this observation that made her question why the one-handed Captain had yet to return.

     The plan was hardly clever, even an imbecile like Hook couldn’t screw it up, but in the light of day it was obvious something had gone wrong. Perhaps she had underestimated Snow and her companions. A displeased sneer graced her features as she readily recalled her idiotic daughter setting fire to the wardrobe while the warrior from Chin distracted her. It had been incredibly foolish.

     But Cora had persevered nonetheless.

     A good sorceress knows how to make the most out of anything--including ashes from a magical tree trunk.

     Now, all she needed was that blasted Pirate and the magical compass.

     “Never send a man to do a woman’s job,” she sighed to herself as she pulled a magical cuff from her cloak and attached it to her own wrist. She had hoped to have no need of it, but, alas, here she was.

 

*****

 

     “Exactly where are we going,” asked Emma, really wishing she had not told everyone to pack up and head out as soon as she got off that damn stalk.

     Her legs felt like jello, her head was pounding from the lack of caffeine, sugar and sleep she so desperately needed, and her right hand still ached from knocking that blockhead Hook out. She wanted to rest, not for super long, just a couple hours would be great.

     But she was afraid.

     They had no idea where Cora was at the moment, and she didn’t know how quickly Hook or the Giant would wake up and give them chase.

     So she kept her exhaustion to herself, unwilling to slow the rest of them down and put them all at risk.

     “To the only place Cora would go to revive anything,” Snow replied, trudging along right beside her. Emma briefly wondered if her mother’s feet ached as badly as her’s did or if she was used to trekking for hours due to her past life. 

_      Present life? _ Emma shook her head.

     She was still trying to wrap her brain around all of this. A part of her, a much bigger part than she cared to admit, was hoping all of this was some seriously shitty dream caused by food poisoning from Regina’s apple tart. She would gladly embrace waking up--even in the hospital to Doctor Whale’s face--to that reality over this one.

     “And that is,” she finally asked, realizing that Snow had only given her a partial answer while she get lost in her own thoughts.

     “Lake Nostos,” she replied, an inflection in her tone that was both nostalgic and sad.

     It seemed to be the only two emotions this place made Mary Margaret, _ dammit _ , Snow, feel. It was yet another reason why Emma wanted to get the hell out of this fairytale fuck-up and back home.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke--Present_ **

 

     “I believe I asked to not be disturbed,” Regina bit out to the unwelcome shadows approaching her where she still resided in front of Daniel and her tree.

     “I apologize, your Majesty, for the intrusion” Granny replied with unexpected respect and a docile demeanor.

     Brow raised at the out of character behavior, Regina glanced at David who gave her an apologetic look, then turned her attention back to the older woman beside him. Taking a deep steadying breath, Regina pushed down her initial irritation as she gathered herself to her feet--forcing her shoulders to relax--and gave the older woman a respective nod in turn.

     “What can I do for you, Widow Lucas?”

     “The cloak,” she began, sharing a knowing look, “will it work with this land’s magic?”

     Regina’s features widened in surprise at the question, the words taking her back many years ago to the first time she had encountered the elder wolf.

 

**_Forty Years Ago - Enchanted Forest_ **

 

    _Regina turned Rocinante once more, encouraging him towards the last log in the field. She smiled gleefully at the rush of racing with her best friend, their hearts pounding under the cover of darkness. King Leopold was away on business, young Snow was sleeping, Rumpelstiltskin and her were due for Magic lessons in a little while, and, until then, she was free to do as she wished._

_      The misty air clinging to her clothes and skin, Regina relished the sensation of weightlessness that encased her as Rocinante cleared the last log with precision. Laughing joyfully, she drew the steed up short of the woods and patted him along his neck--praising him for a job well done. _

_      As she was catching her breath, her eyes sweeping the wood-line around them, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise in alert--her magic flaring with it. Narrowing her gaze, she trotted closer to the forest edge, letting her still newfound magic guide her to whatever it was that had caught its attention. _

_      Seeing nothing as the shadows of the branches crept around them, Regina shrugged, and had just turned herself and Rocinante away, when she suddenly caught the faintest sound of something breathing. Her back already to it, Regina straightened herself in her saddle, prepping, before unexpectedly whipping a fireball to life in her hand, turning, and blasting it off into the trees. _

_      Rocinante reared at the violent action, but Regina forced him to turn as another sound--that of someone in pain--drew her all the way around. _

_      “Show yourself,” she commanded, bringing another fireball forth to illuminate the area around them. _

_      “Please,” came the voice of a woman from the woodland depths. “I mean you no harm.” _

_      Raising her chin and straightening her poster, Regina replied in her most authoritative regal tone, “Then approach your Queen and explain your presence.” _

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Regina wondered, for a moment, why the older woman would even ask such a question, until she caught the bright sun above reflecting off the windows of City Hall. Quickly going through her own mental calendar, she turned a concerned gaze towards David who shared the older woman’s apprehensiveness.

     “I don’t know,” she finally replied honestly to Granny who frowned at her response. “In theory,” she continued, going over the decades of magical knowledge she had gathered. “It should, since this town was created with magic from the Enchanted Forest.” She took a deep breath and glanced at David again, adding cautiously, “However, all...lands or environments shape magic differently. Things that once behaved one way, may behave another here, or....” she trailed off.

     “Not at all,” finished Granny, her shoulders tensing with fear and worry, sharing the look with David and herself.

_      Oh Ruby. _

 

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

    _The young Queen watched as an older woman, to her surprise, eventually stepped out of the shadows, her left hand covering her right wrist protectively in front of herself. She was wrapped in a dark cloak that obviously made it easy for her to hide in the darkness, and her glasses eerily reflected the light from the fireball still in Regina’s hand--keeping her from seeing her eyes clearly._

_      Closing her hand and extinguishing the light, she watched in faint moonlight as the older woman looked about them warily, shifting the satchel over her shoulder subconsciously tighter to her body. She was most certainly not what Regina had expected, and her curiosity was piqued. _

_      “I apologize for disturbing you, my Queen,” Widow Lucas said, trying to ignore the burning pain of the welt the woman’s fireball had given her. She had no idea the young ruler even had magic, and the unprovoked assault had been startling. _

_      “I was simply passing by,” she continued, taking note that the Queen was out here unattended, no guards in sight. “I...I had business a town over and it took me longer than I expected.” _

_      “And you chose to travel at night instead of taking a room at an Inn until morning?” Regina was growing curiouser and curiouser. “You are either quite brave, or quite stupid.” _

_      At that, the older woman laughed and relaxed a little. _

_      Regina smiled at the sound. _

_      “Neither, your Majesty,” Widow Lucas replied. Her nose twitching at the smell of her own singed flesh, she eyed the Queen critically before continuing hesitantly, “I’m in search of something. Something...magical, for my granddaughter.” _

_      Unable to mask her surprise or her sudden interest, Regina, leaned forward from her spot atop Rocinante--who was shifting uneasily around the older woman--and asked, “What exactly are you in need of?” _

_      “A cure, if possible, or protection, at the very least.” _

_      “For? And from?” _

_      Regina about fell off her steed as the older woman’s eyes shimmered with gold and she replied, “Being a child of the moon.” _

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “Is there a way to find out, to be sure,” Granny asked, her anxiety growing more pronounced as she placed her hands on her hips and began to shift restlessly.

     Regina tilted her head thoughtfully. “Possibly. Either the blue gnat,” she grimaced as the remark slipped past her lips unchecked, “Or...Rumple, could test the magical ability of the cloak for you.”

     David shook his head. “The Dwarves have been mining for days, but haven’t found any fairy dust yet. Without it, Blue is powerless.”

     “And no offense, but I trust Rumple even less than I do you,” replied Granny gruffly, her gaze swinging from Prince Charming back to Regina.

     “None taken,” she replied with a resisted sneer. Shaking off the offense, Regina gave David and Widow Lucas an apologetic look. “But I can’t help you.” She raised her hand at the protest she could see about to spit out the older woman’s mouth. “I promised Henry I would not use magic, and like you with Ruby, I want to do right by him. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

     “Isn’t there anything you can do,” David asked, wanting to find some kind of middle ground for both Granny and Henry’s request. “This isn’t just about protecting Red, it’s also about protecting the people in this town. I’m pretty sure she’s not the only dual-natured shifter we have. If we don’t do something, we’re going to have a serious crisis on our hands.”

     Regina looked between David and Granny, torn.


	11. Trouble and Magic pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking a while to post this. I had previously lied. There is no way I can reach my climactic point in three parts, not after taking the time to organize everything out, so I'm hoping the next chapter will take this wild roller coaster into a death spiral. Until then, enjoy the developments going down here.

     “David, Granny, what a pleasant-” Belle French stopped mid-greeting as she spotted the woman lurking behind the pair entering the tower clock library. Her warm smile slipped from her face and she stiffened, both in fear and anger.

     “What do you want,” she asked--sharp and defensive. She wanted no association with the other woman, not even in shared presence, David and Granny as buffers be damned.

     Regina raised her hands in placation, approaching the auburn haired librarian slowly.

     “I mean you no harm, Belle. I’m not here for me. I promise.”

     Eyeing David and Granny skeptically--both giving her a pleading look in turn--she took a deep settling breath. “Alright. What can I help you with?”

     Reaching into a cloth bag on her shoulder, Granny pulled out a beautiful red cloak and gently laid it on the front counter between them and Belle.

     Confused but Instantly curious, Belle reached out and softly touched the material, feeling a slight charge to it that told her this clothing was of magic.

     “This is a beautifully crafted cloak,” she complimented as she inspected it a bit further. “Obviously a magical one at that.” Lifting her eyes back up to the trio, she tilted her head questioningly. “But why share this with me?”

     “We need you to check if it still holds its magical abilities,” David replied, glancing at Granny and Regina. “The faerie's can’t test it out, and, well, we trust you over Rumple. No offense.”

     Eyes drifting to Regina for her part in this, the other woman shook her head, responding, “I promised Henry not to use magic and I intend to keep that promise.”

     “But I don’t have magic,” Belle told them, her fine features drawn into a frown. “I can’t ascertain that for you like yourself, Rumple or the fairies can.”

     “You’re right,” Regina agreed. “But you know magic, Belle, better than most in this town. Your years with Rumpelstiltskin, along with your natural aptitude for it and dead languages, makes you more than capable of creating and casting the necessary disclosure spell.” Glancing at Granny and David, she added haltingly, “You are...a gifted student of the archaic. You’re talents are invaluable, especially for this town and it’s people. Right now, someone needs you.”

     Glancing at the cloak, thumbing it softly, she asked, “Whose is this?”

     “Ruby’s,” Granny spoke up, stepping closer to the counter dividing them. “Or Red Riding Hood’s, I should say.”

     Brows raised in surprise, Belle flickered her gaze between the three of them. “What exactly is this cloak suppose to do? How did you obtain it?”

     Glancing at Regina, Granny took a deep breath and replied, “From someone long ago who was once a great student of magic herself.”

     “Magic like this most certainly came with a price,” Belle said, eyes narrowing at the older woman. “What did you trade to get this, Granny.”

     Ears perking, David glanced between Regina and the other woman, curious himself about what kind of deal the two women had struck so long ago.

 

  ** _Forty Years ago - Enchanted Forest_**

 

_Regina pondered the older woman’s revelation, her intense eyes scrutinizing her as she did so. Coming to a conclusion of sorts with her thoughts, she glanced around them, taking note of the mist that was still thick in the air and the position of the moon._

_“I would like to assist you in your endeavor,” she finally said, turning Rocinante so he was broadside to the elder wolf. “If you are willing, I can board you at the castle until I complete my task.”_

_Eyeing the Queen with a mix of hope and trepidation, Widow Lucas asked, “And how long would that be, your Majesty?”_

_Tilting her head in thought, Regina replied, “A day’s time, or three, perhaps. I have a meeting shortly with an...acquaintance whom I will make an inquiry to. If he is unable to assist me, then I will head out tomorrow to speak with another.”_

_It sounded too good to be true. Eugenia wanted to believe in the young Queen and her offer, she wanted to trust her...but past misdeeds of others had made her too cautionary. Taking in their surroundings, she straightened her shoulders and made an alternative offer._

_“I’d rather remain out here, your Majesty, if that’s alright with you. I don’t have three days to wait, I’m afraid, for the chance of a solution. If you are able to achieve what I need in a day and half’s time, I will meet you back here and gladly pay you whatever you request. Otherwise, I thank you for your considerate gesture.”_

_Regina raised a brow in surprise._

_No one had challenged her since she had become Queen. It was audacious, bold, and quite entertaining. She found the challenge refreshing and her need to assist the woman, to prove to them both she was capable, grew._

_Reaching out, she offered the other woman her hand, waiting until she hesitantly took it, and unexpectedly shook it firmly--a greatly uncommon act for a young royal. Smiling down at the elder wolf, she said, “Then it’s a deal. I will see you here in a day and half’s time, Miss...?”_

_“Lucas. Widow Eugenia Lucas, your Majesty.”_

_Nodding, Regina turned Rocinante back towards the castle. “Until then, Widow Lucas.”_

 

**Storybrooke**

 

     “You got this from Rumple,” Belle asked Regina, pondering if she had ever seen anything like the cloak while she served her time as Rumple’s maid.

     “No,” she replied, eyes darting to Granny. “He was unwilling to help in a matter he deemed ‘unimportant’ and a ‘waste of my time’. I spoke to another...someone more acquainted with magic and shape-shifters.”

     “Maleficent,” Belle whispered in realization, her surprise at the revelation shared among David and Granny.

     Regina nodded curtly in confirmation, a sharp old pain prickling in her chest at the mention of her dear dead friend. She could feel regret creeping within her veins at the way things had transpired between them, especially after having sent Emma off to...kill her in order to save Henry.

     But the past cannot be undone.

     Taking a deep breath, clearing her throat and her thoughts, Regina replied, “We were able to craft the cloak to suppress one’s natural shifting ability. However, for it to be effective for Red, it required a...sacrifice of that same ability by someone else.”

     “To put it plainly,” Granny cut in, glancing at David and Belle, “the cloak had to take my shifting skills and use it to keep Red’s in check.” Grey eyes now focusing on the librarian’s stunned face, she added, “So I need to know, Belle, that my sacrifice still holds, that the cloak can still keep my Red safe.”

     Eyes darting to Regina, the older woman held a hand up to stop Belle from asking the question she could already see forming on her tongue. “I have all the ingredients you need and...if you want...I can help...coach you through the disclosure spell.”

     Taking in a deep breath, Belle glanced at the trio before her, nerves rattled at the request and mind racing, but she slowly lowered her tense shoulders and nodded her head once--twice--in agreement.

     She could do this.

     They could do this, she had to believe.

     Her friend needed her to prove it so.

 

 

     Leaving the library, Regina turned to David and Granny--who were going to check in on Ruby while she went to her vault to gather the supplies Belle needed--and said, “In the spirit of cooperation, I should inform you both that Rumple immensely dislikes shape-shifters.” They both stiffened uncomfortably at the reveal. “I don’t know why, but he was rather displeased when I first sought Maleficent out. At first I assumed it was down to a master’s possessive nature over his apprentice, but over the years it became obvious he despised all shifters.” Eyes darting between the two, she concluded, “If I were you, I would avoid asking the Imp for anything concerning Ruby, or any other shifter in this town, for that matter.”

     Nodding their heads in understanding, Regina turned to walk away when she heard Granny call out to her.

     “Regina?”

     "Yes?"

     Widow Lucas bit her lip for a few seconds, then huffed and looked down her nose through her glasses at her. “I never liked the Evil Queen.” Regina stiffened defensively at the title. “But I was once impressed with the young Queen who knew how to wield magic wisely. Don’t let Henry’s childish view of our world cost you your natural talent--it’s a sacrifice you can’t take back.”

     Raising her chin slightly to meet the elder wolf’s gaze, she replied in argument of her son, “If it hadn’t been for magic and that young Queen, all of our children and theirs would be better off than they are now.”     

     With David and Granny at a loss for words in response, their faces growing pensive as their thoughts rolled around, Regina turned and continued on towards the cemetery. She was displeased that her plans for the day had been interrupted, but they always say there is no rest for the wicked, and, well, she was beyond that.

 

*****

 

     Near the tree line on the outskirts of town, King George sat in his car staring at the mine entrance. He had been exiting town hall, after the latest private council meeting, when he had heard voices nearby--especially one in particular.

     David.

     The bastard who should have been his twin brother James's replacement. The man who had almost cost him his kingdom. The one he could never call son.

     He had thought about confronting him right then and there, but as he listened in on the conversation he was having with the old diner owner and Regina, he decided another tactic was in order.

     Making sure no one else was currently lurking about outside the mine, and that the dwarves were still inside whistling away as they picked for fairy dust, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

     As soon as he heard it connect, he said, “I have a task for you. Meet me at the mines as soon as possible.” Glancing around once more, he added, “And make sure you’re not followed.”

 

*****

 

**Enchanted Forest**

 

     “Tell me about Regina.”

     “What,” Snow asked in surprise, stumbling a little along the path they were on at Emma’s unexpected request.

     “I want to know what she was like here,” Emma explained, brows drawn in thought. The sun was sitting high in the sky and she knew they would eventually be stopping to rest soon. Until then, she needed some stimulating conversation to keep going. “I mean, I get that she was the Evil Queen and what not, but, was she different from who she is now?”

     “She was...,” Snow shook her head, at a lost where to even begin. Her own brow furrowing, she turned to Emma. “Why are you asking?”

     Emma sighed, her shoulders sagging wearily. “Because I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around everything,” she gestured to the woods around them. “Especially her.” Glancing at her mom, she said, “I vaguely remember the story of Snow White, and I’ve glanced at Henry’s book, but,” she bit her lip, trying to organize her scrambled thoughts. “I can’t see it, the pieces of her story...your shared story, I guess.”

     Snow sighed herself.

     This was going to be a heavy conversation and she knew Emma, she knew how this was going to go down, and she could already feel a headache coming on.

     “What exactly do you want to know,” she asked, her tone devoid of emotion, practically clinical, bracing herself.

     Emma stiffened at the change, her own tone also shifting to one she often used as Sheriff. “Was she really your stepmother? She can’t been more than, what, five years older than me, us?”

     “Four years,” Snow corrected, not happy with this side of Emma. “And yes, she was.”

     “How old was she when she married your father?”

     “Seventeen.”

     Snow could see the thought ball rolling in Emma’s head and waited for the expected reaction.

     “Wait,” she stumbled at her mother’s response, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the trail. “What? Are you serious?” She couldn’t help the rising edge in her voice.

     Snow stopped as well and raised a hand, begging Emma to listen to her. “This land isn’t like Storybrooke, not present day anyways. It is--was--common to be married by that age.”

     Emma saw that Aurora and Mulan had also stopped just a few feet ahead of them. Their expressions were curious and concerned, but neither seemed to be on the same mental and emotional wavelength as herself. Obviously, since they were from this land, they shared her mother's viewpoint.

     “That doesn’t make it ok,” she argued. She couldn’t suppress the mixed look of disgust and trepidation that crossed her face as she said, “I’m afraid to ask how old the King--your father--was.”

     “Your grandfather,” Snow stressed, “was...,” she shook her head, taking a breath to reel her own emotions back in check. “You have to understand, Emma,” she began to explain, “I had just loss my mother, and my father had loved her very much.”

     Emma’s heart began to pound as it started to sink towards her stomach. “Please don’t tell me--”

     “He wanted to fill a void for the both of us,” Snow barreled own, pleading with her eyes for Emma to understand. “To give me love and affection where it was absent, t-to...” she stuttered and closed her eyes, unwilling to shed the tears that were gathering. “To have someone to share his time with. Being soul ruler of a kingdom is a very lonely position.”

     “So he married a child in order to have a glorified babysitter for you and a warm body in his bed at night,” Emma exploded, her entire body screaming in outrage. “Jesus Snow!”

     “I never wanted that for her,” Snow defended vehemently. “Never! But this world, Emma, in this world the expectations for royalty are high and unkind. Some of us get lucky, like your father and I, and are able to find true love. But others, most others, are not." Snow sniffled and shrugged in defeat, knowing Emma could never understand. "Regina was a princess, no matter that her father was a fifth seated prince never likely to become king. When my father made the request....she was unable to deny it."

     Silence fell between them for a few beats, both women struggling to get their emotions in check. Snow knew her past and this world, just as Emma knew hers. Neither would justify an injustice, but perspectives on said unjust were obviously different.

     “Did she love him,” Emma eventually asked quietly, slowly starting to walk again, nodding for Mulan and Aurora to do the same.

     “Who,” Snow asked, falling back into step with her daughter, wiping at her face to push her emotions back.

     “Your father,” Emma clarified, still trying to make all the loose pieces in her head fit. “Did she ever love him?”

     “No,” Snow replied softly, melancholy coating her words. “She loved someone else.”

     That caught Emma’s attention. “Who?”

     Snow's eyes darted forward, lost in a memory that--like all others here--visibly pained her. “A stable boy. They had once planned to run away.”

     Emma’s shoulders sagged once more, feeling her heart sink even further into her stomach. It was obvious now all the happy ending bullshit this land hyped about was just that--hype up bullshit. “What happened?”

     Sighing, Snow shook her head. “The only thing Cora wants more than her daughter is power, and she used Regina in every way possible to attain it until Regina finally pushed her out of her life.”

 _But the damage had already been done_ , Emma thought, knowing it was being left unsaid by her mother.

     “Nothing,” Snow continued, turning her eyes towards Emma, making sure she was listening. “Not even Regina’s desire for love, will stand in the way of that. She killed a kindhearted stable boy right in front of her to prove it.”

     Emma’s whole body shook in terror, chills breaking across her skin at that revelation.

     “Imagine what she would do if she got back to Storybrooke, Emma, and found Henry.”

     Snow’s words were like an unexpected blow and Emma curled in on herself, her arms wrapping around her waist protectively.

     Softening at her daughter’s sudden change in demeanor, Snow placed a comforting hand on her arm and squeezed. “Make no mistake, Emma, Regina earned her title as Evil Queen. She descended into the lowest, darkest, places possible and tortured us all in turn. She is a scorpion with a saccharine smile who knows the right thing to say to keep you cornered so she can strike you whenever she pleases.”

     Emma nodded. Mayor Mills, in that regard, was a lot like the Evil Queen when it came to torturing people she saw as her prey.

     “But she’s no Cora.”

     Snow nodded, thoughtfully. “No, she’s not her mother.” She glanced at Emma in warning. “But she easily could be.”


	12. Trouble and Magic pt4

**Storybrooke**

 

     “What do you mean Belle and Regina are working together,” Ruby asked, eyes sweeping incredulously back and forth between Granny and Charming. “You do remember she locked her away, twice, right?”

     Sighing, David nodded his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “I know, Ruby, but I think,” glancing at Granny, “In the spirit of cooperation, we need to give her a chance. She’s trying to be better, for Henry.”

     Crossing her own arms, Ruby leaned back against the wall in the B&B’s office and gazed out the window to the mid-afternoon sun. Her right foot wouldn’t stop tapping, she was feeling wired--like she had had consumed way too many lattes. She wanted, no needed to run, but that wasn’t option.

     Not here.

     Not until they knew she could control the wolf within her.

     Twenty eight years is a long time to go without shifting and she felt like a fresh pup all over again--anxious, irritated, hungry and scared. So fucking scared. If Emma was here now instead of David she didn’t know what she would tell the young woman. They had become good friends before the curse broke, but now, knowing who she was, acknowledging how hard all of this was going to be for Emma to accept, she honestly wasn’t sure she would be up to the task of putting her down should a situation arise calling for it.

     Turning back to David and Granny, she released her own sigh, running her fingers nervously through her hair. They would do it, if necessary. The first thing Granny had done when magic rolled into town was to take every piece of silver they had and melt it down into arrow tips for her crossbow. They weren’t enough to kill her, but they could sure stop her and, disturbing as it was, she found comfort in that.

     “Alright,” she said, pushing off the wall and turning towards the doorway. “I’ll finish my shift up while we...wait for them. Just...let me know wh--”

     The ground suddenly bucked beneath her, knocking her sideways, rattling the entire diner. Dishes and pictures fell from their shelves and walls around them, David, reaching out to steady Granny as she stumbled towards her desk. It was like a thundercloud was rumbling within the building, dying out slowly with trembles until eventually everything was silent.

     Then all hell broke loose.

     “What was that,” David asked, eyes darting between the two of them, making sure they were ok.

     “No idea,” Ruby said. Turning, she jogged out to the diner, taking in the customers and waitresses slowly rising back onto their feet, some pushing tables that had overturned out of their way.

     Sprinting towards the door, she burst outside, David hot on her heels, to be greeted by the cacophony of car sirens and people shouting. She didn’t see anything, but her heightened senses were picking up the faint tremors of the ground shifting and the smell of coal dust came wafting in around her as it road on a passing breeze.

     “The mines,” she whispered, turning to Charming, eyes growing wide in worry.

     “What?”

     The shrilling tone of his cell phone cut off her response and he pulled it from his pocket. “This is David. What’s happened?”

     As he turned to hear the caller, Ruby spotted Belle and Regina exiting the library, both of them hurriedly striding their way. Her feet moving forward of their own accord, she met them in the middle of the street just as David finished his call, turning to join them.

     “What the hell was that,” Regina asked, as she pulled out her cell and dialed Henry’s number.

     “There’s been a collapse at the mine,” David replied, motioning towards his cruiser parked near the diner, pacing back towards it. “I’m going to need your help, the dwarves are trapped inside!”

     “Oh my God,” Belle gasped, following after him.

     Nodding, Regina paused, glancing at Belle and Ruby. Taking a quick deep breath, she caught their attention and took a chance. “Belle, I need you, Ruby and Granny to go and get Henry from school.” Their faces exploded into surprise and shock at the request. “Keep him at the diner with the three of you until we get back.” Focusing her gaze on Ruby as she reached the passenger door of the cruiser, Regina added, “Do NOT, no matter what, let him out of your sight. Understood?”

     At her hesitant nod, the former Mayor ducked into the vehicle, David gunning it to life, and slammed the door shut as he kicked the siren on and squealed tired--dust spiraling up as they raced down the street out of sight. Chest rising and falling with adrenaline, Ruby turned towards her friend and reached out, clasping their hands together, drawing her attention towards her.

     “Thank you, for working with her, for helping me,” she said, giving her a warm smile and a gentle squeeze.

     Smiling back reassuringly, Belle replied, “Thank me when I’m finished. We had just gathered everything together when the library shook us about.”

     “Well, until then, let’s go fetch us a little boy and hope like hell free chocolate shakes will keep him occupied until Regina and David get back.”

     Nodding, Belle worried her bottom lip with her teeth, glancing back the way the cruiser had gone, before following Ruby down the street towards the school.

 

*****

 

     “Doc! Doc! Where are you,” Grumpy shouted in the cloud of dust, darkness swallowing his vision.

     His ears were still ringing from the sudden collapse, the entire mine having tossed them about violently. He wasn’t sure if the sticky trickle on the side of his face was sweat or blood, but he was damn certain he had rock fragments embedded in his forehead.

     “Doc,” he called again, staggering around, feeling his way along the tunnel they had been working in. He could hear the others yelling from somewhere ahead, likely close to the entrance since it felt like he was stumbling on an incline.

     But Doc was eerily silent and he was starting to panic.

     “Where the hell are you Doc,” he grumbled.

     Tripping unexpectedly over a pile of rocks, he grunted and swore as he crashed back down to the floor of the mine, his hands landing sharply against jagged edges of coal and something else, something smooth and cold.

     Pushing back up onto his knees, Grumpy wiped at his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the murky darkness, before he reached out and lifted one of the objects. Rubbing his rough hands across its surface to clean it up, he swore again as he felt the undeniable familiar surface of a crystal.

     “Holy shit!”

     Pushing back onto his feet, he started forward again, calling out excitedly, “Hey guys, guys! I think we found it! I think we--” only to suddenly faceplant again as his feet found a solid body blocking his path.

     A loud grunt and a moan escaped the obstruction and Grumpy rolled onto his side, coming face to face with a barely conscious Doc.

 

*****

 

     George smiled in satisfaction as he watched the emergency crew approaching in the distance while his companion tossed his axe in the trunk of his car, closing the lid with a resounding thunk.

     “It’ll take them hours to get those midgets free,” the gruff man rumbled, coming to stand beside George in front of the vehicle hidden within the treeline.

     “Good. That gives us plenty of time to find that cloak and to make sure those God awful faeries can’t use their pathetic little wands.”

     Nodding his head in agreement at their plan, the other man turned and took his place in the passenger seat of the car. George remained where he was until he saw the Sheriff’s cruiser racing up the roadway towards the mine just behind the ambulance. With a smug grin of satisfaction, he got into his vehicle and backed it down the unused gas well lane, making sure no one else was on the road, before turning and heading back into town.

 

*****

 

     “Good God, what caused this,” David exclaimed as he made his way over to the collapsed entrance of the mine, Regina hot on his heels. “The structure was sound, I was down here just a day ago!”

     Shaking her head, the former Mayor pushed back the fluttering of panic that creeped along her nerve endings, flashes of Henry and Emma emerging from the mine barely a year before, and replied, “It’s impossible to say. Do we know how far down they were working?”

     “About a hundred and fifty feet, give or take,” he replied, walking the perimeter of splintered wood and rock as the rescue crew began clawing away at it. Glancing at Regina, he asked, “Is that old shaft still open?”

     She shook her head, eyes examining the scene intently. “No, I had them cap it right afterwards so no one could enter that section of the mines again.” Spotting something peculiar, she strode towards one of the large wooden beams sticking up from the ground. Kneeling to get a closer look, she motioned behind her and said, “Come take a look at this.”

     “What do you got,” David asked as he approached, bending over to look at the breaks in the post Regina was pointing to.

     “Correct me if I’m wrong, but those look an awful lot like metal shavings,” she replied, fingering the deep gashes in the wood with little flecks that kept bouncing the sunlight off of them.

     Running his hand over the marks, David quickly stepped back and swept his eyes around them. Unholstering his gun, he eyed everyone working about as Regina stood back up and did the same.

     “That post’s been cut,” he confirmed, looking for a suspicious face amongst them and outwards.

     “Why? What purpose would it serve,” she asked, her thoughts racing with suspicion.

     “I don’t know,” he replied, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in alarm. “To keep them from finding any fairy dust? To punish them? Us?”

     “Or to be a distraction,” Regina proposed, considering what her reasons would be to trap the dwarves in the mine.

     Putting his gun back, David started unbuttoning his shirt as he turned towards her. She raised a brow at him.

     “I don’t like this. Take the cruiser, go back into town. I’m going to stay here and help them get the guys free,” he said, tossing his shirt onto the ground behind him and handing her the keys.

     She rolled her eyes at his behavior but started back towards the cruiser, turning once as he shouted after her, “And call me if you see anything suspicious.”

     “Likewise,” she shouted back, throwing the driver side open and crawling in behind the wheel.

     David watched as she spun the car around, taking off down the road they had just come up in a cloud of smoke, before grabbing a set of gloves off of one of the firefighters and dug his hands into the mass of rock and wood keeping the dwarves pinned within the mine.

 

*****

 

     Henry eyed the three women hovering around him carefully as they sat at the counter in Granny’s Diner. They had been tight lipped about the mini quake that had shook town, and the whereabouts of his mother and gramp. He wasn’t stupid, he knew something was going down, but what, he wasn’t sure. 

_      Maybe Emma and Gram have found a way back. _ His heart fluttered with hope, but the faces around him were anxious, Ruby couldn’t stop pacing and Belle just kept giving him this nervous smile. 

_      Or maybe there was trouble, like an ogre or something has made its way from the Enchanted Forest to Storybrooke. _ He bit his lip in worry, his fingers playing with the handle of his hot cocoa that was partially full. He wanted to help, to be with his mom and gramp, to see what was happening. He hated feeling useless.

     A big yawn suddenly broke across his face and Henry shook his head, surprised by how tired he was feeling. The nightmares had kept him up most of the night, even with his mom there, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of going back to sleep anytime soon. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his mind flashed back to that awful room of fire and glass.  _ It was just a dream _ , that’s what he kept telling himself, but it had felt so real.

     Another yawn caught him off guard and he felt his body start to lean towards the counter.

     What was wrong with him?

     Eyeing his cup of coca warily as he felt his eyes grow heavy, Henry looked at Granny who was staring him down and he frowned.

     “What’s wrong with my hot chocolate,” he asked, his mind starting to get fuzzy.

     Granny shook her head and approached him slowly. “Nothing, but it looks like you need a nap, kid. Why don’t you crash on my office couch. We’ll wake you when either David or your mother gets here.”

     Henry shook his head, struggling to stay awake. “No, I don’t want to nap. I don’t want to dream.” His tongue was heavy, just like his head. He tried to push away from the counter, to get down from his seat, but as he started to slide off his stool he lost his grip and felt himself fall forward, Ruby quickly reaching out and catching him just as everything went black.

 

     Looking down at the slumped boy in her arms, Ruby glanced at Belle then Granny. “What the hell did you do to him?”

     Granny just harrumphed, her hands going to her hips as she watched her granddaughter pick the boy up and carry him over to a booth to lay him down. “He’ll be fine, he only got half a sleeping pill.”

     “You drugged him,” Ruby said incredulously, staring at her grandmother in disbelief. “What the hell for?”

     “You and I both know that boy wasn’t going to be sticking around here much longer,” she argued. “And I’ve no intentions of chasing after him or pissing his mother off anymore than I have today.”

     “And you think she’s not going to go off seeing him like this?”

     Granny just shrugged, Belle watching the pair like a wide-eyed spectator.

     “I’ll take my chances.”

     Hearing a car approaching the diner, the three looked out to see the cruiser pulling up out front, Regina exiting the vehicle instead of David.

     Glaring at her grandmother, Ruby said, “Great. Looks like we’re going to take that chance right now.”

 

     Double checking her phone that David hadn’t called her since she left, Regina quickly climbed the steps to Granny’s, swinging the diner door open wide as she entered. Pausing in her haste, she caught sight of Ruby standing next to a table looking at her anxiously. Glancing to her right, she saw Belle seated at the diner counter and Granny standing on the other side of it. 

     The tension in the air was palpable. Noticing Henry’s book bag slung over a stool but no immediate sign of her boy, Regina frowned, approaching the three women slowly. 

     “Where is my son?”

     Ruby’s gaze immediately turned to her grandmother, her eyes accusing and Regina followed suit, glaring at the other woman.

     “He’s fine, your majesty, just taking a nap,” Granny replied, nodding her head towards the booth beside Red.

     Eyes widening in alarm, Regina reached her son in three strides, kneeling down to run her fingers through his hair and palm his cheek, making sure he wasn’t having another nightmare. When he didn’t move the slightest bit at her touch, she turned his head and watched how it limply fell back against the seat of the booth.

     “What the hell did you do to him,” she yelled, turning towards the old woman, her fingers twitching, magic swirling to life in her eyes.

     “Your boy’s a Charming, and we both know they can’t sit still when something’s afoot,” Granny replied, unmoving as Ruby quickly scattered away from Regina to stand by Belle who had left her seat and moved closer towards the bathrooms. “He was going to find a way to sneak off to those mines at some point,” Granny said knowingly, glaring right back at Regina.

     “So you drugged him,” Regina replied, her tone and face mirroring Ruby from just moments earlier. Flames licked at her fingers, itching to merge into a usable fireball. “How dare you!”

     She was overwhelmed by the gal of the elder wolf.  _ Who the hell did she think she was? First she interrupts a private funeral, begs for assistance, and then drugs her son without remorse? The peasant! Who did she think she was dealing with? _

     Her lip curling into a snarl, Regina approached Granny, her eyes gleaming as a fireball finally merged into the palm of her hand--the embodiment of the Evil Queen taking over her.

     “I should burn you where you stand.” Her tone was low and threatening, every inch of her screamed for her to punish the insolent wolf.

     “And disappoint your boy?” Granny crossed her arms and shook her head. “I think not, your Majesty. Just be thankful he’s here resting peacefully and not out there being idiotic like his grandfather.”

     Regina growled, leaning menacingly over the counter, coming almost nose to nose with the other woman. She wanted her fear, her respect! But the eyes staring back at her were as defiant as ever. Because she knew. She knew she was right. Regina would not risk Henry’s love over this.

     Snuffing the fireball out with a shake of her hand, she swiveled her gaze to the other women who shook their head subtly at her silent question. No, they had no part in Granny’s little deed. Turning back to the elder wolf, she raised her chin and said, “Pull a stunt like this again and I promise you I will turn you into a rug. This is your only warning, wolf, you’ve crossed enough lines for the day.”

     Granny looked ready to snap back at her, but one look at Ruby’s pleading eyes and the older woman sighed, nodding her head once in understanding.

     Turning fully from her, Regina, glanced once more at Henry with worry, before she shook her former facade off. It had been too easy to fall right back into.

     Addressing the librarian still standing beside Ruby, she said “Belle, I need you to go and retrieve everything we left at the library. Make sure nothing is missing and bring it here.”

     Watching her friend leave the diner as instructed, Ruby asked, “What happened at the mine?”

     Taking a seat by Henry, Regina glanced at her as she replied, “The cave in wasn’t an accident. Someone took one of the front entrance support beams out.”

     “What? Who would do that?”

     Regina shook her head as she watched the younger woman take a seat across from her. “Take your pick. Whether all of you realize it or not, Rumple and I are not the only villains in this town, nor are we the only ones with magic.”

     “Yeah, but what would they get out of hurting the dwarves,” Ruby wondered aloud, glancing between her grandmother and Regina. “It’s not like they’ve done anything to anyone here.”

     Regina tilted her head in thought. “That’s...not necessarily true. I wasn’t the only one the dwarves assisted Snow and Charming in fighting against.”

     “You think King George might have something to do with this,” Granny asked.

     Glaring at her, the ire within still burning, she replied, “I gave the man as much as I could when I brought us here, but that doesn’t mean his thirst for revenge against the shepherd was quenched.” Picking up her phone, she started texting her speculation to David. “If it is him, he’s likely up to something far more sinister than punishing dwarves.”

     The door to the diner suddenly banged open and all three women turned, startled to see Belle hunched over, trying to catch her breath.

     “Belle? What’s wrong,” Ruby asked, getting to her feet and approaching her friend cautiously.

     “The..cloak,” the auburn haired woman said between gasps of air. “It’s...it’s missing!” She turned to the former mayor, alarm in her eyes. “Someone...stole it...right from...the safe. Broke the door...clean off!”

     Regina snapped her attention to the clock hanging nearby, quickly counting down the hours until sunset. Rising to her feet, dialing David’s number instead of finishing her text, she looked over at Granny.

     “I sure as hell hope you have a backup plan should we not find that damn thing before the sun sets.”

     Eyes darting to Belle and Ruby--the latter’s face torn between fear and guilt--the older sighed and nodded.

     Yeah, she had a plan. But she didn’t like it.

     Not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had never originally intended to have Granny drug Henry, but he is a bit of a little shit, and I needed him to stay put for a little while to help move things along. So it was either drug him, or have him behave for once and I highly doubt that boy was going to sit still on his own without assistance.


	13. Imps, Mothers, and Situations

     Rumpelstiltskin made his way from the old well in the woods back into town, gritting his teeth in frustration as he was regretting that he had hiked here instead of driving. He knew, if he really wanted to, with a wave of his hand he could be right back at his pawn shop. But each pulsing urge to do so was met with the mental image of Belle and her disappointed face.

     She wasn’t like Henry, she hadn’t asked Rumple to refrain from using magic like Regina was doing for her boy, but his own unspoken fear of her rejecting him simply because he was using his dark magic kept his casting habits at bay. Of course, over the last few days he has begun to question the fairness of her distrust in him.

     Did she truly believe he could change?

     Or was she lying to herself?

     And in turn giving him false hope?

     He was the dark one after all, had been since they met. It wasn’t like he had given her a false impression of his true nature or anything.

     Rumbled sighed. 

     He wondered how Regina was handling her impulses.

     Neither of them were exactly built to be ‘ _ good’ _ , and they both knew the ramifications of letting one’s magic build up. Perhaps, in time, they could equally succeed in changing who they are, but right now, patience and understanding were something both Belle and Henry were going to have to invest in.

     They were not butterflies in a cocoon.

     They were evil incarnate. 

     And just as he had carved Regina into his monster, it would take much more from Belle to redeem him, to make him a better man. 

     Finally stepping out of the woods and onto the road, Rumple turned suddenly to the  sound of a car quickly approaching. Managing to stumble back just as the dark vehicle raced by--the unknown driver sneering at him as he passed--he frowned and watched as the vehicle swerved erratically before disappearing from sight.

_      Ignorant peasant _ , he thought, his lips twitching with their own sneer.

     The loud, unexpected, thundering collapse of something just a bit ago was the reasoning behind him abandoning his early meditations. This incident now, however, was rapidly compelling him to forgo his prior concerns and teleport to the library to check on Belle. She could be displeased with him later, confirming she was safe at the moment was a far more pressing matter.

     Fluttering his right hand slightly, Rumple narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air just as he felt himself begin to dissipate, the curious scent of fairy dust drifting on a breeze catching him off guard.

 

*****

 

     Emma had never been more thankful in her life that she was traveling with a whiny princess than she was right now. Well, that was a bit unfair to Aurora. She wasn’t exactly whiny, she was just tired, like the rest of them, and willing to speak up about it until they all agreed it was time to stop and rest for the day. The afternoon was quickly passing them by and Emma was in desperate need of more than eight hours of rest.

     The sleeping beauty herself looked just as haggard as Emma felt, and neither Snow nor Mulan complained when they both just dropped onto a nice patch of grass under a tree in a clearing and closed their eyes. Taking in deep calming breaths to help shut her mind down some-- bits and pieces of the conversation she had earlier with her mo-with-Snow still plaguing her, twisting her nerves all up--Emma folder her arms behind her head and sighed.

     There was nothing she could do about Regina right now, and Cora was at least a half a day’s travel behind them. Even if the crazy bitch can just...poof from one place to the next, Emma highly doubted she knew where they were at the moment. Oh she fully suspected Hook and her knew where they were heading, since it was telling that he shared their plan with them, but how they were getting there was an advantage Emma hoped they could keep until they were back home.

     Hearing something that sounded like a low whistle, Emma cracked open an eye and glanced at Aurora. The redhead was sound asleep already, the noise coming from the way her nose was pushed up due to her cheek being smushed against her own forearm. Groaning, Emma rolled onto her right side and pulled the collar of her jacket up high enough to cover her ear and muffle the irritation out. 

     Feeling her eyes getting heavy, she took in a deep breath and yawned, willing her limbs to let go and fall into slumber.

 

*****

 

     “This is your backup plan,” Regina exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief as she took in the makeshift shackles and chains Granny had installed in her diner cooler. Bolted as they were to the solid foundation, and as secure as the door appeared to be with extra locks welded into place, she didn’t trust it for a second.

     “If you have a better plan, your Majesty,” Granny snarked, hands going to her hips in frustration. “I’d sure like to hear it. Otherwise, we can do without the condescending judgement.”

     “It’s hardly condescending when it’s obvious your backup plan is nothing more than a poorly constructed dungeon,” Regina argued back, eyes narrowing in irritation. “Ruby will easily be able to slip from those and out that door before you can put one of your bolts into her. Even IF--” she pointed towards the eatery of the diner, “you happen to be standing by to do so!”

     “Look, this is getting us nowhere,” Red cut in from behind Granny, her emotions ramping uncomfortably at the situation revolving around her. “Maybe it would just be better to lock me away somewhere else, or--or push me over the town line or--sedate me!”

     “Don’t be ridiculous,” Granny and Regina echoed one another, their eyes even rolling simultaneously at Red’s interruption.

     Glancing at each other, both women took a step back and sighed, realizing that their temperaments were not helping the matter. They needed to be working together on this, for Ruby and the town’s sake.

     “Is there nothing else, magically, that can be done,” Belle asked from her spot behind the trio, a bit unsure of herself among the volatile personalities. Headstrong and independent as she was, she never had quite the bite the other three seem to possess so naturally.

     Regina began to pace outside the cooler, racking her mind for a solution.

     Granny watched her warily, her own mind racing, trying to figure out if there was another possibility they had overlooked.

     Ruby gave Belle a sad smile, reaching out and squeezing her hand in appreciation for her presence. But it was obvious she felt they were out of options.

     The startling ding of the diner door opening caught their attention and Belle turned, surprised to see Rumple sigh with relief upon seeing her.

     “What are you doing here,” she asked him, a bit pleased that it appeared he had come for her.

     “I’ve been looking for you,” he replied, approaching her hesitantly, his eyes taking in their surroundings. “I-I was worried.” He eyed the three women behind her suspiciously and asked, “Belle, what’s going on?”

     “The mine collapsed,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder, following his gaze. “And we’ve been dealing with...a bit of a delicate situation. Actually, someone broke into my safe at the library just a bit ago.”

     “What?”

     “They took something, it doesn’t belong to me, but it’s very important that we get it back.”

     “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about either of those incidences,” Regina questioned, approaching the pair slowly with a raised brow. “Would you, Rumple?”

     “Afraid not, your Majesty,” he replied, scowling at her accusation. Turning back to Belle, he asked, “What exactly did this person take?”

     The auburn woman hesitated, glancing at Regina, then Granny and Ruby before turning back to Rumple. She wanted to tell him, to trust him with this, but her hesitation was already sparking a flicker of hurt and distrust in his eyes--his gaze narrowing on her thoughtfully.

     After a moment of continued silence, he straightened his posture and rested both hands on his cane, his defenses rising like a wall around him.

     “I see,” he said. He waved a hand dismissively at her pleading expression, her mouth open to explain herself but quickly snapping shut. “Never mind. What’s important at the moment is that you are being safe. Yes?”

     Belle gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded. “Yes, I am.”

     “Good.” His gentle satisfied smile eased the strain tugging on her heart, but Belle still felt guilt eating away at her.

     “Now. If you are unwilling to tell me what you are up to, perhaps I can at least--”

     A loud cry of pain and a panicked shout of terror cut Rumple off, drawing Regina around quickly. He watched as she rushed to a booth towards the back and reached out to lift a shaking Henry up from where he had been hidden from view.

     The boy winced at his mother’s inspecting touches and Regina’s eyes grew wide in horror, gasping at the visible burn on Henry’s right hand. Her gaze snapped towards Rumple, asking silently if he knew what it was about. With a grim look, he glanced at Belle, before slowly moving towards the pair, stopping just short of the table to take in the fear on both of their faces.

     “It would appear your sleeping curse has side-effects, dearie,” he supplied in answer, drawing Regina’s attention back to him with a mixed expression of surprise and guilt. Turning to Henry, he asked gently, “Tell me, Henry, how many times have you visited the room of fire?”

     Eyeing his mom guardedly, he stuttered, “A-a couple times. I dream about it,” he drew his chin down, resting it against his chest as he held his hand between Regina’s. “Every time I go to sleep.”

     Regina mirrored his posture at his words, unable to look at the hurt and pain in her son’s eyes--both of which she had unwittingly caused.

     “Well,” Rumple sighed, drawing everyone’s attention. “That’s something I can at least assist with.”

     He gave Henry a reassuring smile, glancing briefly at Regina’s hesitant gaze, before turning to Belle. “I’ll need to get a couple items from my shop. Please, stay here until I return. Perhaps then, we can address other matters.”

     She simply nodded and watched him go, her fingers twisting around one another anxiously.

 

*****

 

     “No! Stay away!”

     Aurora’s startled cry shook Emma from her sleep, drawing her up into a defensive position as her bleary eyes darted around them. Catching movement to her right, she twisted, sucking in a sharp breath, only to relax as she saw it was Snow moving to comfort the distraught young woman--tears staining her sweaty cheeks.

     Falling back onto her side, Emma watched as the woman who was her mother, reassured Aurora it was nothing more than a dream, that the nightmares would eventually go away. The frightened woman just shook her head though, stuttering out that there was someone watching her in the room of fire. The understanding look on Snow’s face drew a frown across Emma’s. She wondered how her mother seemed to grasp what the princess was going through.

     Another secret, Emma concluded. Another piece of her life she wasn’t yet privy to.

     It felt unfair, watching the woman who gave her away, be there for someone else in need. Emma burrowed into the grass and her jacket, cocooning herself from the emotions spilling within and around her. It felt childish to be a bit hurt and, dare she say it, jealous of the attention Aurora was getting from Snow.

     But she had no one to blame, not really.

     She could accuse Regina all she wanted to for making her life and her parent’s life miserable but Emma had long ago adopted the belief that everyone was accountable for their own actions--including Snow White and Prince Charming--who put her in a magical wardrobe and sent her off to be abandoned on the side of a road.

     That wasn’t what they wanted for her, she understands that.

     But it is what happened.

     Just like she was responsible for keeping her emotions locked up, for keeping her deeply rooted needs pushed down, away from the people who obviously want to be there for her. Trust was a big thing Emma had very little of. And when she felt burned, intentionally or otherwise, it was ten times harder for her to even think about giving that trust back.

     Mary Margaret, she could trust.

     Princess Snow White?

     She hardly knew her.

     And so far, on this unwanted adventure, Emma had done nothing in her mind to be worthy of a mother who would sacrifice her happiness in hope of a better future for her child.

 

*****

 

     “What exactly caused this,” Regina asked as she watched Rumple mix a series of liquids together from the micro alchemy lab he had brought with him in a mini brief case--her arms crossed though her fingers itched to sooth Henry who was sitting nervously beside her at the diner counter.

     “I already told you,” he replied, eyeing the potion he was creating critically.

     Regina huffed, but pursed her lips as another wave of guilt washed over her.

     “I thought the sleeping curse was just that,” she said softly. “Something to put someone in an endless dreamscape.”

     Rumple let out a short laugh and gave his former apprentice a derisive look. “You obviously ignored the point of it being a curse, dearie. It was never intended to be...kind.”

     “What does it do then,” asked Henry, breaking the tension building between Mr. Gold and his mother. “Where is the room of fire? Can other people get to it?”

     Rumple turned to Henry and nodded.

     “When people fall under a sleeping curse, their soul travels to a netherworld,” he explained patiently, testing the potion he had mixed together--Belle and the others watching and listening intently. “Where they reside until they are awoken.”

     A flash of Henry lying in the hospital bed, his monitor flat lining and Miss Swan standing over him curled around Regina’s vision and she took a shuddering breath, pushing it away to focus on the situation at hand.

     “Now this world,” Rumple continued, oblivious (or uncaring) to her distress. “Is between life and death, and it’s very real.” He glanced at her then, making it clear he wanted her to take his words to heart, to understand the consequences of her actions. “However.” he said, taking a dropper from the case on the table beside him and pulling a locket from his pocket. “Even after the curse is broken, sometimes, in sleep, the victim finds their way back to that world.”

     Dropping a few drops of the potion into the top of the little locket, Rumple closed it back up and turned towards Henry, handing it out to him.

     “I’m afraid I can’t stop you from visiting this world, Henry,” he said, letting the boy take the locket, watching as he curiously inspected it. “But if you wear this while sleeping, I can give you control while in that nether place.” Glancing at Belle, he added, “And when one learns to control something, the fear that once daunts them vanishes.”

     Regina helped Henry slip the locket on, her hands resting gingerly on his shoulders, finding comforting and assurance in the touch. She would forever regret causing her boy such unwanted pain, not only with the sleeping curse, but with her actions in trying to keep him from finding out the truth about everything as well.

     She swallowed the rising lump in her throat, thankful for a second time that Emma Swan had been around to undo what she had done. She feared, briefly, what could happen next with Emma absent from this realm. It wasn’t until this very moment that she realized the blond was an integral key in keeping Henry safe, his White Knight to her Evil Queen . 

     The resolve to bring her and her insipid mother back home blossomed within her.

     A fury of blue and pale colors suddenly jarred the silence of the diner, a loud shaky voice ringing with accusation as a nun stormed through Granny’s door saying, “Where are they, your Majesty? Where are our wands?” Eyeing the man in front of her, her anger swelled and she pointed at him. “You too Imp! Both of you are responsible, I just know it!”

     They stared at the blue fairy, Reul Ghorm, with a raised brow each, meeting her ire with silence.

     “Tell me,” she demanded, practically stamping her foot in frustration.

     Granny snorted at the tantrum and grumbled about her damn diner not being a revolving door for drama.

     “I’m afraid we have no idea what you are talking about, Sister,” Rumple answered her, eyeing the women around him who shook their heads in response.

     They had no clue either.

     “Our wands,” the fairy huffed. “They are missing. The sisters and I were tending to the grounds today, and upon our return, we realized our wands were gone.”

     “All of them,” asked Henry, glancing at his mother. Regina shrugged her shoulders at his silent question and he gave her a half smile, feeling guilty for questioning her innocence. The gentle squeeze to his shoulder assured him she understood his doubt.

     Eyeing the unusual group skeptically, Reul nodded her head slowly, turning her attention to Granny. “Where is David? What has happened?”

     “It appears we have a problem,” Regina replied for her. She caught Rumple’s curious gaze and chose her next words wisely. “King George has decided to continue his revenge against Prince Charming, and in the process, punish others associated with him.”

     “He collapsed the mine with the dwarves inside,” Ruby added. “And...stole something of mine that I need back.” She caught Regina’s attention and received an approving nod for her guarded response.

     Just like the Queen, the fairies hadn’t exactly shown up to give her mercy or assist in her time of need. She wasn’t sure if they were just selective in helping royals, or if they considered her a lost cause. Either way, Ruby had never been fond of Reul Ghorm.

     “Well now,” Rumple drawled, taking in the suspicious looks around him. “This is quite the situation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I decided to bring Rumple in to this, I had different intentions than what I wrote. But once I began to process his train of thought, I found myself playing devil's advocate. I can understand why the writers for OUAT did the same. He's a critical thinking character, very self aware, but unable to keep his impulses wrapped in common sense.


	14. Surprises

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Hook stumbled from the beanstalk, his body exhausted due to the long climb down. Kneeling in the evening sun, he reached for his canteen and growled, realizing he had left the bloody thing behind.

_      Swan. _

     A sneer drew across his aching face, another reminder of that blasted blond. He let out a guttural cry, his right fist striking hard into the ground beneath him.

     “You’re practically foaming at the mouth, dear,” came a sickeningly sweet voice behind him and he closed his eyes, drawing in deep breaths to temper his rage.

     “It appears that no good princess heeled you like a hound,” Cora tsked, shaking her head as her magic dissipated around her. “It’s fortunate I was able to come for you.”

     “Yes, thank you for your unhelpful assistance,” he mocked back, disgruntled.

     She dismissed his contempt with a wave of her hand. “It took considerable magic to move myself up the stalk as quickly as I had. If you wanted a faster way down,” she glared at him,” you could have simply fell.”

     “Oh you would have loved that,” he said, rising unsteadily to his feet. “I was bait, after all, wasn’t I, your Majesty?”

     She chuckled lightly, furthering his ire.

     “Don’t be silly, Captain,” she purred, approaching him gently as if he was a wild animal. “Why would I waste such a resource?”

     “For the compass,” he argued, pulling away as she reached out to stroke his cheek. “You knew that beast would have it on him, and we both know you would never lower yourself to being a sheep.”

     Cora sighed.

     “Seems this Swan woman has knocked you for quite a loop.” She shook her head, turning her eyes thoughtfully back up the stalk. “I thought we had trust, Hook. That our...desires were aligned.”

     He bit his lip, trying to resist the ploy.

     But Cora was clever, she knew how to turn her words, to make him question himself. Doubt was a cunning weapon. Running his hand wearily through his hair, his appearance no doubt as disheveled as he felt, Hook sighed and approach the Queen of Hearts cautiously.

     “I...apologize, your Majesty,” he said, choosing his own words carefully. “Emma Swan is smarter than we thought. She took advantage of my...the situation and managed to delay us.”

     Cora turned to him and gave him a sympathetic smile.

     “It’s quite alright, Captain. One can only work with what they have.”

     Hook tilted his head slightly, unsure if it had been insulted or not.

     “We still managed to get what we truly came for, did we not,” Cora asked, her eyes brightening with hope.

     “Aye,” he nodded in agreement, a roguish smile breaking across his face as he pulled a large necklace out from a vest pocket, revealing a small encased bean.

     “Brilliant,” Cora beamed. “Now all we have to do is catch up with the wayward royals and take back the compass.” She gave him a coy look. “A pleasure I’m sure we both will enjoy.”

     Hook gleamed in mutual delight, revenge coiling in his gut. 

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Ruby stared at the clock.

     Three hours until sunset...and they had nothing. 

     No cloak, no faerie wands, no sustainable confinement and no magical spell to suppress her transformation. She was feeling trapped within her skin, her senses overwhelmed--caged like the monster she was. Glancing towards the group of people working on a solution at a table behind her, she wondered for the tenth time that hour if she should just beg Regina to put her under a sleeping curse.

     There was no one here who could wake her.

     And the town would be safe.

     It was that pesky room of fire that kept her hesitant.

     She felt for Henry. The poor boy had been through so much.

     They all had.

     Really, curse aside, Regina had managed to give peace and civility to their lives that had never existed before. She was kind of regretting Emma breaking it and taking that all away right now.

     Releasing a weary sigh, she stood up from her seat near the doors, and slowly made her way back towards her grandmother’s cooler--back to the chains in the wall that were their only hope. She tried not to show the despair that washed over, the deeply rooted sensation that she was going to be nothing more than a dog on a leash in mere hours, but Belle’s soft “Hey” drew her short and she knew her friend could see.

     The gentle understanding smile that greeted her as she turned her way almost broke her and Ruby sniffed, quickly shaking her head to push the tears back.

     “We’ll find another way,” Belle reassured, giving her left bicep a gentle squeeze. “And if we don’t, then Granny and I will be right here to watch over you.”

     “Excuse me,” Rumple cut in questioningly, his posture going tense at her words. “I don’t think--that’s not a good idea, Belle,” he tried to reason cautiously, not wanting to upset her. He still didn’t know exactly why Miss Lucas needed to be contained or dampened by magic, but he had his suspicions and they put him on edge.

     “Well I’m not leaving either of them here alone to face this, Rumple,” Belle replied, reminding him of that fiery independence she so fiercely possessed.

     “That’s barely a cage,” he argued, gesturing towards the cooler with his cane. “No...being would be easily restrained in that.”

     Regina narrowed her eyes at the exchange, Rumple’s words poking at her brain, gnawing on a solution she suddenly realized they hadn’t considered.

     “Rumples right, Red deserves her freedom,” she cut in, catching their attention. “And delaying her...need isn’t healthy either.” 

     “But that’s not an option, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Ruby replied, agitated at the circles they were running. “This is what we got. This is what we’re going to do.” She glanced at Rumple before turning towards Belle. “And I’m sorry, I know you want to help, but he’s right, it’s not safe for you.”

     Belle opened her mouth to argue but Regina cut her off.

     “Actually it is.” Everyone turned their attention back to her. “An option, I mean.” Catching Rumple’s gaze, she continued. “There is a...cavern, if you will, that we can lock you in. It’s not far, Granny and Belle both,” she stressed, delighting in her former mentor’s hardening glare, “can easily stand guard and you can deal with things until they are resolved.”

     Rumple sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her plan.

     “Her Majesty’s right,” he said, turning back to Belle and Ruby. “A little elbow work and we should have the elevator up and running within the hour.”

     “Elevator? Where exactly is this cavern,” asked Granny, speaking up from her place by the table.

     Regina’s smile widened as her eyes flickered towards Belle. “Below the library.”

 

*****

 

     The voices grew louder and Grumpy swore, the moment he saw Prince Charming, he was going to kiss him--never more hopeful than right now to see his smiling King’s face. 

     “Hurry up boys,” he bellowed from their side of the cave-in, encouraging his tired brothers to continue digging. “Daylight’s just ahead!”

     Doc rested near a beam behind them, drifting in and out of consciousness. They were all worried about him, hoping like hell David had brought a medic crew so they could rush him off to the hospital as fast as possible.

     Shifting to move a large boulder, Grumpy adjusted his pants--taking the large crystal he had found from his back pocket and tossing it behind him to roll towards his injured brother. He would find it again, no doubt, but until they are free, it was in his way.

 

     Hearing the dwarves from the other side, David smiled, laughing as he wiped grime and sweat from his face. They had been digging for hours, careful not to cause further collapse but moving swiftly as they had no way of knowing if everyone was alright or not.

     Reaching for another large rock, he was just about to call out to his friends when his cell phone suddenly rang out. Reaching for it, he stepped back out of the way and caught his breath as he saw Regina’s number.

     “What have you got,” he asked instantly.

     “A n answer to Red’s dilemma,” she replied and he sighed in relief.

     “Thank the Gods.”

     “Indeed.”

     “Were you able to locate the wands or her cloak,” he asked, pacing further away from the mine to give their conversation privacy.

     “No, not yet. I found a third option that hadn’t occurred to me until just now.”

     “Oh?”

     “The cavern beneath the library. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered it at first, it’s an ideal place for Red to sort out her predicament.”

     David paused, curiously.  “There’s a cavern below the library?”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     “Tell me again, your Majesty, why we informed them of our plans,” Hook asked as he and Cora traveled in a horseless carriage down an abandoned road. He was sure the sight was as eerie as it felt.

     The older woman smiled. “Because I know Snow.” Taking in the passing overgrown fields and desolate villages outside her window, she added, “She’s rather fond of returning to certain places, and the nearest source to restore the wardrobe is lake Nostos.” Her smile grew sinister as she turned her attention back towards him. “ Prince Charming may have killed the siren that once lived there, but all magical places have a draw other vile creatures can hardly resist, and one can only speculate what kind of monstrosity awaits them.”

     He raised a brow at the maniacal glint her in eyes, but kept silent.

_      Better them than us _ , he agreed, but a small part of him hoped Emma Swan survived the encounter.

     He wanted the woman all to himself.

     They had much to tangle about.

 

*****

 

     “Why this lake,” Mulan asked Snow as they gathered up their supplies, the former Queen going over yet again their tentative plan. “Why Nostos?”

     She knew little of this area--nothing more than lore and fiction to help her get by--and Nostos, as far as she recalled, was a dried up wasteland.

     “Its waters are regenerative,” she replied, shifting the bow on her shoulder as she waited for Emma to return from the bushes. “Knowing Cora, it’s the most likely place she’ll go.”

     “But there’s nothing there, the lake is barren,” Mulan informed her, glancing at Aurora who was trimming the bottom of her dress off to make it easier for her to move through thicket. She tried not to flinch as the Princess came close to cutting herself more than once with her short dagger.

     Snow nodded. “I know, but the source of the lake runs deep.” Taking in the setting sun, she added, “And I’d much rather approach it at night than in daylight.” A wistful smile graced her face as she turned back towards the bush, Emma’s form quickly approaching. “My husband said the water practically glows under it. If there’s even just a trickle present, we’ll know.”

     Sighing at the wild assumption, Mulan turned towards Aurora who handed her dagger back, her dress ragged but now more tolerable. She didn’t like this. It all felt like a wild goose chase and she didn’t trust Snow’s assumption of Cora at all.

     Hearing her repeat her reasoning to Emma, she eyed the blond critically, taking in her frowned expression and standoffish demeanor. The oddly dressed woman obviously shared her concerns, green eyes flickering her way, a silent understanding passing between them. They would follow Snow, for now, but if the situation turned unexpected, they would abandon it immediately, no matter what.

     Mulan took comfort in that.

     She was unlike any warrior she had ever met before. Emma Swan was formidable. Brash and uneducated in the ways of this land, yes, but reliable and a survivor, without a doubt.


	15. Delightful Moments

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     King George stood at the docks, finishing wrapping the bundle in his hand with a weighted rope as the sun began to rest against the horizon. It was strange--now that they were in this world--to see how fragile the wands of the faeries were. In the Enchanted Forest they always carried a large presence, something to be hesitant or respectful of. But here, in a land with such possibilities, he realizes Reul Ghorm and her flock were nothing more than deceitful little sprites.

_      Fools _ , he harrumphed, knotting the rope and double checking his handiwork. Nodding his head in approval of a job well done, he glanced around at the bare boats about him, before letting the wands fall casually from his hand into the waters below. The splash was hardly climatic--the wands buoying briefly before quickly sinking under the darkening rolling waves--but it drew a satisfied smile across his face.

     Turning back towards his car, he spied the red cloak sitting haphazardly in his passenger seat and wondered what Regina and the others were up to now that their four legged friend was without her precious protection. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the once Evil Queen figured him out, the question was whether or not she was simply playing a part, or if she had indeed turned over a _ ‘new leaf’ _ .

     He could easily admit he was quite disappointed if it turned out the latter was the case. The young arrogant ruler had earned his respect long ago, he hated to see her so...weak. But he sighed as he entered his vehicle, acknowledging the Queen’s possible reasoning. He too would, and once did, anything for his son.

      But James was gone, and David was an abhorrent carbon copy.

 

*****

 

     Ruby paced inside the library, watching as red rays of light streaked across the sky, giving it a fuchsia color while the sun began it’s final descent. Mother superior, the Blue Fairy, kept giving the stink eye as her attention switched between Marco at the elevator and her. She tried not to snarl back, though she caught an encouraging look in both Regina and Henry’s eyes to do so.

_      Like mother, like son. _

     She shook her head. What in the world had her life become in the last few days? Here she was, stalking the main room of the library while Rumplestiltskin, Geppetto and the Evil Queen worked on giving her a place to wolf out and be free without fear of harming others.

     Was it backwards day?

     Like, did aspects of Wonderland make its way here?

     Seriously, because that was the only way any of this could rationally be explained.

     “There, all finished,” Marco said, stepping back from the mechanism for the elevator, lowering his tools and wiping his hands with a rag. He eyed Belle and Granny, too wary to hold Regina or Mr. Gold’s gaze while he moved out of their way.

     Ruby snorted.

     She didn’t blame him one bit.

     “So what now,” asked Granny as she stepped one foot into the decorative elevator, eyeing it intently, wanting to be sure it was safe.

     “Now we go down,” Regina replied, gesturing for Ruby to join them.

     Taking a deep breath, Ruby rubbed her hands nervously, pausing at the doors as Belle patted her on the back gently.

     “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, giving her a warm encouraging smile.

     Rumpelstiltskin cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

     “These doors seal with magic. Only myself or Regina can let you out.” Studying her intently, making her skin crawl under his gaze, he added, “Be sure to use your time wisely, Miss Lucas. I would hate to regret setting you free if you are...unwell come daylight.”

     A chill sweeping through her at his hidden meaning, Ruby nodded once in understanding, before finally entering the elevator. She gripped the cage-work around her as Belle pulled the lever and the unsettling box began its descent down.

 

*****

 

     “Thank the Gods,” Grumpy practically praised, seeing David’s face for the first time as dusk began to settle upon them. 

     He laughed at his grime coated companion and reached through the opening they had finally created, helping him pull himself out of the collapsed mine. Patting him on the back, David tried not to cough at the clouds of dust that burst off him--Grumpy wrapping his arms around his middle and squeezing him tightly in relief.

     “How is everyone,” he eventually asked as the dwarf stepped back, turning towards his brothers who were obviously tired but smiling as they came out one by one.

     “Doc’s got a bad head wound,” he replied, a frown creasing his face. “He’s been in and out of it for hours.”

     Nodding, David motioned for the medics nearby towards the opening and watched with Grumpy as they entered the temporary passage--a gurney in hand.

     “What the hell happened,” Grumpy asked, taking in the way the mine’s front had apparently sunk inward.

     Leading him a couple feet away, David lowered his voice as he replied bitterly, “King George.”

     “Are you serious?” Grumpy’s own temper flared at the pompous king’s behavior.

     “Yep. He’s been rather busy today.”

     “What else has he done,” Grumpy asked, watching intently as the medics exited the mine with Doc, his brothers assisting to the ambulance.

     “He stole the faeries wands, and Ruby’s cloak.” At Grumpy’s explosive look of outrage, David held up a hand to stop his rising outburst. “I know, I know, but we’ll get them back, and make King George pay for his crimes. I promise.”

     “What about Rubes? It’s a full moon tonight.”

     Giving him an impish look, David replied, “We’ve got that covered, actually.”

     Grumpy’s frown deepened. “Who’s we?”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     The colors around them were washing away from bright and earthy to muted shades of green and brown as the sun finished its descent, swallowing them in filtered darkness. They were avoiding roads at all cost, traveling well worn animal trails through the woods to keep Cora and Hook far behind them. Emma was growing concerned, however, that they were wasting more time than necessary going this route. 

     They knew the two of them would arrive at Nostos eventually, but she wanted to be there first, not last.

     Stumbling over a root she hadn’t seen, Emma, steadied herself on a nearby tree and hissed at the pain that flared across her wrist. The skin had become irritated throughout the day, and she had resisted scratching it as much as she could, but it just seemed to be getting worse. Pausing in her trailing of the others, she rubbed her fingers gently over the prickled skin until she unexpectedly encountered a stiff ridge under her jacket.

     Her heart skipped a beat as her fingers traced it.

_      The cuff. _

     She had forgotten to take it off!

_      Shit, shit shit! _

     How the hell had they all forgotten about it?!

     Quickly tugging it back up her forearm, she yanked at the cuff, watching as it sparked with magic at being released, and tossed the offending thing into the dense woods behind her.

     Turning back to her companions, she released an unsteady breath, her heart pounding in fear. They appeared none the wiser, still trekking carefully ahead.

_      What a fucking idiot _ , Emma berated herself. _ Could you possibly fuck up anymore?! _

     Breathing in through her nose to calm herself, shaking her arms out, Emma glanced back to the shadows and fervently hoped like hell Cora couldn’t use that thing like a gps tracker.

 

     But the resonating echo of the magic being released did reach out to Cora, making her hum in delight as she realized they were closing in on the insufferable lot. Turning towards the window facing out the coach where the horses would have been leading the carriage through the woods, she eyed the darkness ahead, baring her teeth like a huntress sniffing out her prey.

      “I will see you soon, Emma Swan.”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Ruby let out a low whistle as she, Regina and Granny took in the deep cavern below the library. It was massive, practically a middle earth dwelling.

     “Do I even want to know why this is down here,” asked Granny, eyeing Regina questioningly.

     The former Mayor was about to respond with a sharp retort when Ruby caught sight of something unexpected.

     “Woah!” She turned to the pair, eyes wide, thumb jerked over her shoulder. “Are those dragon bones?” 

     Sighing, Regina licked her lips and averted her gaze as she replied uneasily, “Not everyone benefited from the curse.”

     The Lucas women slumped dejectedly at that revelation, turning their gazes away from Regina--whether it was out of discomfort or shame, she wasn’t sure.

     She resisted sighing aloud at the discontent. 

     Her and Mal had once been...intimately close, especially at a time when Regina had no one to support her save her timid father, and she had cared for the woman as deeply as she could. But as time passed, and Maleficent became less...approving of the direction she was going, those feelings had turned bitter.

     She felt herself bristle at their visible assumption--unaware that Maleficent’s demise had been deserving. Not everything she had done had been completely out of spite. Even though yes, her feelings had soured, Mal’s punishment had been due to more than lack of solidarity.

     “To be clear, though I doubt either of you care,” she spoke up, her voice drifting throughout the cavern, “Maleficent was placed down here because she had betrayed me, more than once, and it was too risky to alter her form while bringing her over.”

     “But you changed Archie, I mean Jiminy,” argued Ruby, her eyes sweeping the cavern walls as she slowly walked forward. She couldn’t see the moon, but she could feel it approaching, and her body was thrumming with need.

     “Who was born a man before the Blue Fairy changed him,” Regina countered, trailing behind the young wolf. “Mal was a Dragon, through and through, with magic that is as ancient and old as time itself.” Regina shook her head regretfully. “I’m not responsible for her demise. Rumple had, unknowingly to me, placed an item within Maleficent and when...” her voice hitched a little, “when Henry fell under the sleeping curse, Miss Swan was forced to retrieve the item,” she eyed the bones reluctantly, “at all cost.”

     “Could you bring her back,” Granny wondered, taking in the large skeleton curiously. “I know they say dead is dead, but I’ve heard many a tale of dragon’s returning from the grave.”

     Regina frowned. “Why would I want to?”

     The older wolf shrugged. “We all got a second chance.” Eyeing her haughtily, she added, “One which some of us don’t really deserve.”

     Regina sneered at the woman. She was quickly growing tired of being in her obnoxious presence. 

     “Thank you.”

     The words caught Regina off guard and she turned towards Ruby who was unexpectedly starting to pull her clothes off. Brows raising rapidly to her hairline in surprise, she couldn’t help but watch the young woman strip down in all her unabashed glory, waiting--confusingly--for an explanation.

     “Without you, I wouldn’t be here right now,” the girl clarified, ditching the last of her clothes. Giving her grandmother a devilish grin at her grunt of disapproval she continued, “and for that, I’m thankful.” Taking in Regina’s dumbfounded expression, she gave her a wink and turned, tossing her a coy golden iris look in parting, before finally resisting her need to shift and fell into form

     The former Mayor’s breath caught at the sight, having never seen anyone but Mal transform, and she flushed at Miss Lucas’ spectacular frame. She was lean and graceful, her fur shades of black and grey, and her eyes gleaming with hunger. She was a well crafted creature, and Regina was instantly very pleased to be in this moment.

     Letting out a long needed howl, Ruby, circled, sniffing the scent of the women eyeing her intently, before spinning around and taking off into a run, leaping over the deep gorge with ease, and off into the shadowy depths of the cavern.

     Hand unknowingly settled over her thumping heart, Regina glanced towards Granny and smiled wide in delight at the glare directed her way. Giving the woman her own wink, she turned and headed back towards the elevator, a little spring in her step at the turn of events.

_      Worth it. Absolutely worth it _ , she mused with a chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I couldn't resist Ruby and Regina bonding a little more. And seriously, who wouldn't find Red Riding Hood sexy as hell in that moment? 
> 
> Will Maleficent return? I don't know yet, but I was disappointed they didn't utilize her presence earlier than season 5. Plus, I want to explore the dynamic of the possibility. I have plans with Rumple, and Mal could add an interesting twist to that.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading :) you don't go unnoticed and I appreciate all of you!


	16. Unexpected Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking a little longer than planned in posting this. I found myself laying out a timeline of events just to organize what goes down here.

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Mulan eyed the full moon rising above them, night blanketing their surroundings and hiding things within creeping shadows. It’s aura was bright, but menacing, suggesting to her that another type of darkness was coming their way. Glancing warily around them, she noted the faces of her companions--Aurora and Snow lost in troubled thoughts, Emma bearing a frown with an apprehensive posture--and wondered if they sensed something as well.

     Turning her gaze back towards the stars, she thought back to the men she had once served with, her fellow warriors, her kinsmen. They were attuned, a collective body of skill and determination. They fought as one, lived as one, and died as one--whether it was in physical battle or in the conquest of the soul. They had her back, and she had theirs.

     She was alone now though, even in present company--a warrior adrift in an unknown land.

     The choice that brought her to this moment, the need to assist a Prince in saving his true love, had been...unexpected, but not surprising. Deep down she was willing to accept the knowledge that Prince Phillip--former Yaoguai--had been special, their meeting more divine than passing introduction. Whether it was for themselves, or the odd princess currently trailing behind her, she was unsure.

     Fate told few its intentions, and those that knew it, suffered madness for the price of it.

     But free will was dictated to humanity for a reason, and Mulan had accepted Phillips request for assistance to free herself from her own lack of purpose. After the war against the Hun, she had returned decorated to her family, but had grown empty overtime. She was accustomed to fighting, to pushing against tides.

     With nothing left to push back against, she took the opportunity to journey onward.

     Glancing back to the women behind her once more, she heard Aurora’s words from a couple days ago drift across her ears like a phantom caress.

_      ‘You love him.’ _

     She had denied it.

_      ‘Phillip, you love him too.’ _

     Yet the fair princess had not been wrong.

     The ache in her chest was heavy--with guilt, sadness, and loss.

     Yes, she had loved Phillip, the same way she had loved Li Shang, like a brother in arms.

     And right now, as they neared lake Nostos, she yearned for him, for the harmony of his companionship, for the security in his presence, for the hope in his unwavering belief that they would always triumph.

     “Emma!” The sound of her own voice startled her, the name passing her lips before thought. 

     She paused, nevertheless, in her footing, turning to watch as the blond jogged towards her with a questioning look--one mirrored by Snow and Aurora.

     Gripping her forearm lightly as soon as she was within reach, she paced them a few strides ahead of the princesses, giving them privacy for their conversation. 

     “What’s up?”

     “I trust you,” Mulan stated, unclear where this impulse was coming from. But she trusted it, as she had countless times before. Just as she had with Phillip.

     “Ookaay,” the blond drawled out, confused, but open.

     “I trust you as you trusted me.” She searched hazel eyes in the darkness, trying to convey what she was struggling to put into words. “We are not far from lake Nostos. I need to know, to be sure, we are still on the same page of thought.”

     She watched as Emma took in a deep breath, aware eyes darting back to her mother and Aurora, before returning to her. Heartbeats ticked by, Mulan holding her own breath in anticipation of Emma’s response. This was important. Differences aside, their unity was a necessity--she could feel the weight of it starting to crawl against her bones.

     Her chest was starting to squeeze with the need for release.

     And then Emma nodded her head, once, the agreement sealed.

     Mulan sighed in relief, giving the blond’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Good.”

     Returning her focus to the woods around them, she took in her own deep breath and released it, settling her nerves with the motion. They may never be companions in the way she had been with the others, but they were now a joined...something, and its solidarity was something she was in need of.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Rumple watched Belle intently, noting the way she jumped as soon as she heard Regina’s voice drift up from the depths below--informing her it was time for their return--and how her eyes lingered on the door before them with anticipation, nervous anxiety making her twitch and pull at her fingers--joined tightly together--in front of her.

     The behavior both annoyed and pleased him.

     She hadn’t changed, not one bit.

     The princess who had sacrificed herself for her family and her kingdom still invested her time, and her heart, in the affair of others. It was something he knew to treasure, for it had been one of the many driving forces behind the chisel that she had taken to his defenses. 

     But it worried him as well, for many reasons.

     He knew he coveted Belle, that she was precious, a rare stone he had unexpectedly acquired. He also knew he was not alone in his assessment of her. Others easily saw her for what she is, and their appreciation drew forth a deeply seeded jealousy within him--much like he had once possessed for Bae...and Milah.

     The emotions that pooled in his gut at that acknowledgment burned like fire, choking on the few rational thoughts that warned him to tread lightly, to not collar what didn’t belong to him. This was what failed him once before, clinging to something he should not. He had picked magic over his son’s love, revenge over his former wife’s happiness, and the success of the dark curse over Belle’s safety.

     He knew, should he (and he fully intended to) succeed in crossing the border keeping them all trapped in this little seaside town, he could undo what he had done with Bae. Forgiveness, thought not easy, would be tangible. Milah, well, she was a price he would one day pay, but not right now.

     That only left Belle then, in his mind--his unfinished amend.

     His potential for happiness.

     His....

     “Was it a success? Is Ruby alright?”

     Her words drew him from his musings and Rumpel looked up to see Regina and Widow Lucas exiting the elevator, a pleased smirk on one face and a scowl on the other.

     “Yes,” the Queen drawled, eyeing Belle with a playful glint. “Quite so. Perhaps next time,” her gaze flickered to him briefly, “you could be there yourself.”

     Rumpel’s grip on his cane tightened. He knew Regina was trying to get a rise out of him, always using this petty childish side of her to do so in correspondence with Belle, and he knew he had to resist it--no matter how his blood boiled. It was the same old game between them, picking and biting at each other’s weaknesses. 

     The sound of the library door opening caught everyone’s attention and he turned to see Prince Charming eyeing them warily, his steps hesitant as he approached.

     “How did it go,” he asked, addressing her Majesty who had joined Henry at a nearby table.

     “As well as could be expected,” she replied, and Rumpel felt the secret conversation around him being passed on by looks from one to another in their little group. 

     The exclusion, especially from Belle, made him bristle and he decided it was time to leave. Turning while Prince Charming updated them on the condition of the mine and the Dwarves, Rumpel was almost to the door when he felt a gentle touch on his arm. Looking back, he was surprised to find Belle smiling softly at him.

     “I’ll call you, soon,” she said, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

     And just like that, all his concerns drifted away in her tender hopeful gaze.

     Letting a soft smile grace his own face, he nodded and stepped out into the night.

 

     Watching Rumpel depart, David turned back to Henry and the others, catching a frown still marring the Blue Fairy’s face and a thoughtful one on Regina’s. Giving his grandson a questioning look, the boy mouthed the word  _ ‘later’ _ and he nodded, letting his curiosity at what had gone down in his absence go for right now.

     “So what are we going to do about King George,” asked Granny, arms crossed and her demeanor...cranky. It had been a long day for all of them.

     “At the moment, nothing,” he replied, meeting the unhappy gazes facing him. “Knowing him like I do, he’ll be laying low and out of sight for tonight. Attempting a wild goose chase would be pointless.” He saw Regina tilt her head observantly at his reasoning and his heart unexpectedly skipped a beat. It was a look he knew, one he had seen a thousand times, one he loved dearly.

     Like a slap of cold water across the face, David became hyper aware of the reality of Regina and Snow’s relationship. It was one thing to know about it, to acknowledge the Queen’s long standing presence in his love’s youth. It was an altogether entirely different truth to be readily aware of her influence in it.

     His gut sinking, and his ears starting to ring, he entirely missed whatever Blue was saying to him. An expression of some kind must have crossed his face though, because Regina suddenly stiffened under his stare and turned her gaze away, lowering her eyes to focus on Henry beside her.    

     “David, are you listening to me,” Reul Ghorm asked, her frustration breaking him from his private heart twisting revelation. 

     “What,” he asked, turning towards her.

     He swore she almost rolled her eyes, before she repeated, “We will need to find our wands as quickly as possible. There is no telling what may happen of the king attempts to use them himself.”

     Granny snorted and David frowned at her.

     “He ain’t going to use them,” she spoke up, the exhaustion of the day showing in her weary shoulders. “Stealing them was just a preventive measure, same with Ruby’s cloak.”

     “No doubt he’s ditched them by now,” Regina agreed, her tone just as tired as Granny’s.

     Blue scoffed at this, ready to protest but David nodded his head. “I agree.” Placing a comforting hand on the irritable fairy’s shoulder, he reassured, “We’ll find them, I promise. Tonight, though, we rest.”

     She obviously didn’t find comfort in his touch or response, but she nodded her head in understanding nonetheless and turned away, leaving the library more quietly than she had entered the diner hours before.

     Sighing, Granny patted David on the shoulder and gave Regina a very curious glare--that left the other woman smirking--before she walked over to Belle who told her she was more than welcome to stay in the apartment upstairs with her tonight.

     “I think it’s time for me to go as well,” the former Mayor said, gently squeezing Henry’s hand, her thumb running softly over it, before turning her attention on him. “I don’t know how long Ruby will want to run, but please be sure to be here first thing in the morning when Rumpel stops in to no doubt check on Belle.” Her gaze darted thoughtfully again to the auburn woman behind them. “I have a feeling things may become more...problematic in time between the troubled couple.”

     Unsure what she was alluding to, David nodded in agreement anyway. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and smiled. “Ready to get something to eat, champ, and maybe watch a movie before bed?”

     His grandson glanced hesitantly at his mother, who inclined her head towards him, before replying, “Sure.”

     It wasn’t exactly the cheerful excited response he had been hoping for.

     Catching sight of something around Henry’s neck for the first time, David’s brow furrowed as he reached out and pulled the locket into sight.

     “What’s this,” he asked, his tone a little accusing as he stiffened with the notion of magic having been used in his absence, especially around his grandson.

     “Mr. Gold gave it to me,” Henry replied, eyes darting between him and Regina.

     David gave her a questioning gaze, wanting further explanation.

     “It’s...to help...Henry control his...visit,” she replied haltingly. “To the room of fire.”

     “The nightmare he’s been having,” David wanted to clarify.

     “It’s a real place,” Henry corrected. “Mr. Gold says it’s where souls visit when they are between life and...” he trailed off, growing subdued at the pained expression spreading across Regina’s face.  

     “So not a nightmare, but another realm,” he tried to piece aloud, gaze darting between mother and son. Both nodded at his assessment.

_      Of course, _ he thought, releasing a weary sigh. 

     He knew he didn’t even have to say anything to Regina, her shame and remorse clearly evident. Giving Henry another gentle squeeze, he coaxed the boy from the table.

     “Come on. We better eat before it gets late.”

     Henry paused though and turned towards his mother, as if asking permission that this was ok. Regina glanced to him hesitantly, before, giving Henry a reassuring smile.

     “Go on. David will take care of you tonight. I need to rest.” Standing, she reached out and ran her fingers through Henry’s hair. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”

     Both of them giving her an understanding smile in response, they made their own way towards the door, David gesturing for Regina to follow them out while Henry gave her fingers a little squeeze, whispering softly, “Thanks mom.”

 

     Regina treasured that affectionate gesture, her heart swelling with love even as she watched her son walk away from her under the weight of David’s protective embrace. 

_      Tiny steps, earned amends, _ she reminded herself, a motivating phrase Dr. Hopper had used with her more than once.

     Watching the pair until they were out of sight, Regina made her way back to her large empty mansion, the long day pushing new weights on her, bowing her shoulders until she was practically hunched over walking through the door of her home. Though she was pleased at the unexpected cooperation, and tentative alliance, between herself and Charming’s little coterie, the emotional and mental toll had been beyond taxing. She hadn’t even begun to process it all, especially not after her morning spent with laying Daniel to rest. 

     Tossing her keys into their holder and depositing her heels where they belonged, she flicked lights on one by one as she made her way towards the kitchen. She was by no means hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten anything, and she knew if she didn’t put something of substance into her body, she would have a restless night’s sleep.

     And she needed the rest. Deeply.

     Opening the door to her fridge, lost in thought of what to make for a table of one, she almost missed the sensation of the hairs rising on the back of her neck. Spinning, hand raising with magic on her fingertips as her heart began to pound with adrenaline, she came face to surprising face with King George.

     “Hello Regina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mulan and Emma forming an alliance isn't unexpected, but her need for it is. They are alike in many ways, and I feel Mulan would still be more emotionally troubled by what happened to Prince Phillip than she had previously expressed.
> 
> King George seeking out Regina shouldn't be a surprise either, but what may come of it might be.


	17. Discord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, you'll see some scenes / histories / play out here directly from the show because I think they work well with what's going on so far. Not everything the writers put out there was disorganized BS.

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “George,” Regina greeted coolly, the magic swirling within her fingertips fading out.

     It was quite curious for her to find him standing there in the shadows of her dining room. The former King and herself had done business on occasion back in the Enchanted Forest, and personally she had no quarrel with him, but still--seeking her out was odd, he had to know what she had been up to today.

     “To what do I owe this pleasure,” she asked, turning slightly back towards her fridge. “I was about to make something to eat.” She glanced his way, keeping him in sight. “Would you care to join me?”

     “Perhaps another time,” the current DA replied, stepping fully out of the shadows, casually resting himself against her breakfast nook. She noticed a tumbler in his hand, partially filled, and realized he had helped himself to her cider. Catching her gaze, he lifted the glass. “This is quite nice, by the way. Make it yourself?”

     “Yes,” she replied, closing the fridge, all thoughts of food forgotten. Placing a hip against the other side of the bar, arms crossing, she got directly to the point. “Why are you here? Surely you know your wayward son is looking for you.”

     “He is not my son,” George spat, slamming the tumbler down on the counter-top. “He’s nothing more than a common shepard in royal clothing!”

     A brow rose at that.

     “I can’t say I disagree,” she said, considering her words carefully. “And yet, nevertheless, you have spent the day...punishing him, and other members of this town, as if he was an insolent child.”

     “Is that what you think I’ve been up to?” He raised a brow, eyeing her critically.

     “Can’t say I’ve honestly given it much thought,” she admitted, moving a few steps closer. A playful smile, reminiscent of her former self, slowly gracing her features. “You’ve been quite the naughty King.”

     George smiled at that, humming appreciatively at her. “Tell me, Regina, did you spend today helping those...peasants because you’ve...changed,” the word came out of his mouth like he had tasted something bitter. “Or because of your son.”

     Ah.

     So he was here to ascertain her position, to decide if she was a viable player, or an obstruction.

     Sighing, Regina let her gaze fall to her counter-top, organizing her thoughts.

     “When I cast this curse, it was for the intent to find my own bit of happiness,” she revealed to him. Eyes hardening, however, and gaze darting up to meet his, she added lowly, “And I will do everything I need to, including working with those buffoons if necessary, to keep that said happiness.”

     “I am no threat to the Evil Queen,” he replied, his words measured, calculating.

     “Your actions would state otherwise,” she argued. “Had I not found a solution to manage Miss Lucas,” she leaned forward, menacingly. “I would currently be feeding you to her.”

     He held her gaze. 

     Picking up his glass, her eyes watching him intently, he took a sip before saying, “I heard a rumor, once, that you managed to gut Snow White.”

     Regina straightened her back, her jaw tensing at the memory.

     “However, you were denied her death by...magic.” He eyed her like a pupil who had failed the simplest of tasks and she began to seethe.

     Leaning forward himself, he asked, “Why then, after you brought us here for your  _ ‘happy ending’ _ as you put it, did you not cut that wench down and toss her corpse out into the streets?”

_      How dare you! _

     She wanted to scream, to slap him across the face, to push him up against the wall with her magic and choke him until he turned blue.

     But the question shot through her like rapid fire, knocking the air out of her lungs, besieging her mind.  _ Why?  _ Why had she not simply killed Snow White the minute they arrived here? Wasn’t that the main reason she had cast the curse? The reasoning Rumpel had used to encourage her in the first place?

     “When you’re ready to thank me for keeping that woman gone from this realm, you know where to find me.” George’s words snapped her from her thoughts.

     Turning, she watched him as he silently left her house out the backdoor, losing himself among the shadows once more. Minutes passed before she was able to move, to shake herself free of the emotions gripping her in place. Hands trembling as she picked up his glass, eyeing it like it was a vile creature, she gripped it tightly, squeezing as hard as she could--as if she was choking the life out of it--until the glass cracked, piercing her skin, sending shards stained crimson crumbling to the floor.

     She was completely oblivious to the tears descending in unison down her cheeks. 

 

 

     But Grumpy wasn’t.

     He could feel his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring in fear as he watched the Evil Queen just stand there, letting the blood drip from her hand on to her kitchen floor. He knew it. He knew, no matter what Prince Charming had said, that she couldn’t be trusted. The woman was just as unstable as she had been before, and he wasn’t surprised at all to see her with King George.

     He needed to follow him, to see where he was hiding out. He needed to get back to the mine to collect that crystal he had found. He needed to call...

     “Grumpy?”

     Turning, he caught sight of Nova--Astrid--moving further into the shadows near him outside the bushes fencing the former Mayor’s house.

     “Are you ready to continue our walk,” she asked curiously, eyes darting from him to Regina’s kitchen. The woman was gone now, having left the room while his back had been turn.

     Hesitating a few seconds, torn about what he wanted to do, he finally nodded and reached out, taking her hand. A shy smile bloomed across her face and he felt his troubled heart calm a little.

     “Yeah. Let’s head to Granny’s. I think David and Henry might be there,” he replied, pulling her away from the ominous house on Mifflin street. “Maybe we can share a sundae, if you like?”

     Her eyes lit up and Grumpy felt a smile of his own grow across his face.

     “With extra cherries?”

     “Absolutely.”

 

*****

 

**_Thirty Years Ago - Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     The Queen sat upon her steed, shrouded in darkness, watching the village below continue to burn. It was the embodiment of the war, the one she was waging against Snow White--angry and raging, but hollow in reward.

     It felt like they had been circling each other for eons, one striking out at the other, managing to draw blood, but never enough to declare a victor. She was starting to grow weary. The unresolved despair constantly gripping her heart was sinking her mind further into madness with each failure in killing her former step-daughter, and Regina feared she would soon become completely addled and lose herself.

     Turning at the sound of approaching horses, she caught sight of one of her generals and awaited his report.

     “My Queen, we have received word,” he said, drawing himself and his men up short before her. “Snow White and the prince have defeated King George. His army has fallen. The kingdom is theirs.”

     “And what of George,” Regina asked, their somewhat alliance in mind.

     “His fate is unknown,” the man admitted. “But without his forces, we are now alone. We cannot defeat them.”

     “Do not tell me what we can and cannot do,” she barked at him, reminding him of his place and who he was speaking to.

     When the man wisely remained silent, she let her gaze drift down to her horse, her unsettled emotions causing him to shift restlessly beneath her.

     “Where is Snow White now,” she asked. Trying to regain some control.

     “Alone,” her general revealed. “Oh her way back to meet the prince.”

     A smile crawled across her face at the news.

     “Excellent.” This was her chance. This was the opportunity she needed to face Snow once more and finally bring their feud to an end.

     “I don’t care how many men you lose,” she said, her facial features growing sinister at the thought of this final battle. “Just keep them apart long enough for me to find her.” Turning her horse, she reminded him, “I will not let them defeat me,” before riding off.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     David watched Henry intently as he picked at his food, eating only small bites, his mind obviously lost in thought. He reminded him of Snow, in so many ways. His habit of taking a drink after so many bites, never speaking with his mouth full, the curve of his smile, the scrunch of his brows, the tilt of his head. Each and every one of them mirrored his love.

     And Regina as well.

     He couldn’t stop seeing the similarities in their mannerisms.

     It was tearing at his heart, making him wonder if the things he loved about his wife were directly linked to the Evil Queen. If so, what did that say about him? About Snow? Is that one of the reasons why she struggled so much with killing her stepmother even after all she had done? To Snow, was it the equivalent of destroying a large piece of herself? Of the woman she was?

     Did Regina even know?

     Because, no matter their tentative cooperation right now, he could never forget what had transpired between them. The sleeping curse, the multiple assassination attempts, the day she had succeeded with a knife.

     David heard the ding of the diner door, but didn’t pay any mind to it until two shadows fell over the table he and Henry were sitting at. Looking up, he saw a wild-eyed Grumpy and an anxious Nova standing beside them.

     “We’ve got a problem,” the stocky man said.

     David sighed and tossed his napkin onto his partially eaten plate. Glancing at Henry, who had a frown drawn across his features at the news, he gestured for the lovebirds to pull up a seat.

     “What now?”

 

*****

 

**_Thirty Years Ago - Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Snow White raced her way through the woods, white cloak billowing around her in her haste to get back to Charming. She didn’t like being separated from him--for many reasons--especially right now. It made her feel vulnerable. Turning her head left, then right, gathering her bearings, she started towards a noticeable path but stumbled suddenly, her foot catching on a rock and sending her tumbling to the ground.

     Heart thumping in her chest, she swiveled her head around at the unexpected sound of an approaching horse, and felt her throat constrict at the sight.

     “Leaving the battle so soon,” intoned a dark melodic voice.

     Snow scrambled to her feet, eyeing the Queen warily as she descended from her horse and approached.

     “The battles over, Regina,” she implored, wiping her gloves clean of dirt. “Our army is too great. You can’t win.” 

     The smile on the Queen’s face just grew. 

     “Well that all depends upon your definition of victory.”

     Snow sighed. Leaning towards her stepmother she said, “I offer you parley, to negotiate the terms of your surrender.”

     The war was over. She knew it. They all knew it. Why couldn’t Regina just finally let this all go?

     “My surrender?”

     The mocking shock was just annoying. 

     Why? Why did they have to do this?

     The fighting was over, in Snow’s mind.

     “Fair enough.” The words from the other woman surprised her. “My terms are quite simple.” She looked at the Queen curiously. What could she possibly want now?

     Regina’s taunting behavior shifted and her face grew serious as she revealed her chilling term.

     “Your death.”

     Snow tried not to let the hurt at her words show, but the pang that shot through her was too strong.

_      Of course. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought George was perfect to bring up my own little question as to why Regina didn't just gut Snow and toss her into a ravine. I mean, it's not like anyone was going to miss her. It felt like a great parting shot, and a reminder as to why Regina brought everyone to Storybrooke in the first place, especially considering what she had been up to. I know she wants to be redeemed, but I don't think mentally she's all there yet. Some shit has to be dealt with.
> 
> Same with Charming. I think he needs to question who he is outside of Snow White. And I think he needs to question what his relationship is to Regina in that regard. Because what if Snow and Emma never do come back? What then? What becomes of Prince Charming? of David Nolan?
> 
> Grumpy is an intrusive fuck, but I like him, and he's kind of the guy that reminds you not everything is all pixie dust and unicorns--minus the whole dating a fairy who's been a nun for 28yrs ;).


	18. Turn of Events

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Snow White watched her daughter and Mulan with a frown as they talked quietly, their words muffled by the distance between them. She wanted to know what they were saying, what Mulan or Emma was trying to convince the other of. After the incident at the beanstalk she was struggling to trust that they were all on the same page.

     She was still angry and hurt at Emma for that.

     But she was becoming more upset with herself over it all.

     Her brave, beautiful, angry child was much like her...and she was disappointed at that realization. Emma, who had grown up in a harsh world all alone. Emma who clung to people just as equally as she kept them at a distance. Emma, the grown woman who never knew how much her parents loved her because all she had experienced due to their choice, was pain.

     Emma, the White Knight, prophesied to save them all, no matter the cost.

_Oh Charming, what have we done?_

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Regina dug at the glass in her palm, eyes still wet with tears, her lower lip bruised from where she kept it pinned between her teeth, blood still dripping from her fingertips. The pain was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment. Each sharp pull of the tweezers and the sound of glass clinking into the sink kept her chest from exploding with all the emotions consuming her.

     George’s words had hit deep.

     For almost forty years she had sought a way to end her misery, to punish Snow White for what she had cost her, to be done with all of this.

     And she had it, here in this land, when there had been no magic, no armies, no intervening fairies to stop her.

     But she never did it.

     Oh she tormented her, teased her even, made her meek and dull.

     Yet she never once thought of ending her life, until now, until George had reminded her why she had sacrificed so much to get here.

     Had it been a clause in the curse? Had Rumpel made a deal with them just as he had with her? Had he removed her deepest desire so she did nothing more than play mere games with Snow like some cat with a mouse?

     It was easier to believe that than assume she couldn’t rise to the occasion when it was finally presented to her. After all, George had been right, she had once stuck a blade to the hilt inside of Snow with very little remorse.

 

**_Thirty Years Ago - Enchanted Forest_ **

 

_Regina saw the verbal barb strike Snow deeply and she lunged forward, fingers raised to plunge deep into her step-daughters chest--aiming right for her selfish little heart._

_But she struck an unexpected wall, her body freezing in mid-motion like she was caught...oh no._

_Her wild eyes sought that of the woman before her as she snarled, “This was a trap?”_

_A weak nod was her response and her stomach roiled at the sympathy gazing back at her._

_“You should have taken the surrender,” Snow replied, eyeing her like a wounded animal._

_The sound of approaching feet drew their attention and her gaze flickered to her left, spotting Prince Charming striding out from the dense woods around them, the Blue Fairy fluttering about behind him._

_“We knew you couldn’t resist the opportunity,” he explained, his poise and voice that of a confident King, a title he had not earned. “Your bloodlust is your greatest weakness.” He glanced at Snow who kept her troubled gaze on her. “And now you have finally lost.”_

_Hearing more footfalls closing in, Regina saw the shackles approaching her and she pushed--screaming against the magic binding her in place. Eerily reminiscent of her last encounter with her mother, she felt her own magic bulge against the bonds holding her, suddenly breaking them, and sending out a wave that knocked everyone back._

_Free of the constraint, Regina didn’t think twice, she lunged at Snow White, unsheathed the dagger at her side, and plunged it into her gut--eyes burning with hate at the shocked gaze staring up at her._

_“Now,” she gritted out, leaning onto the dagger, pushing it in further. “I’ve won.”_

_Snow sobbed, eyes darting down to the weapon embedded in her, but she did not cry out. She didn’t writhe in pain, her lips didn’t speckle crimson with blood like her stepmother hoped for. She just stared, until conflicted amber eyes slowly drifted down to the dagger as well._

_There, between them, sat the sharp object, but no blood spilled forth. Brow drawing into a frown, Regina leaned back, pulling up on the dagger, eyes darting to Snow as she gasped at the sensation, but nothing more happened. Her rage swelling, she yanked the confounded thing out and stared in bewilderment--the blade was clean._

_“No,” she whispered, tears swimming in her eyes, her entire being going numb as Snow quickly crawled away from her with the help of Charming who had scrambled to his feet._

_“A necessary preventive measure,” the Blue Fairy finally spoke up, her tone laced with contempt. “You no longer have the ability to harm Snow White in this land, your Majesty. Not now, not ever.”_

_It would have been easier had they shackled her up and locked her away. It would have been more accepting if they had tied her to a pole and executed her with dignity. It would have been better, in many forms, if they had done something other than simply walk away, leaving her alone in the woods to mourn her failure._

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Regina had never felt so hollow as she had in that moment. Victory in one breath, and crippling loss in the next. That had been the day she had decided to cast the dark curse once offered to her, no matter the price. Rumpel had been thrilled at the sight of her so determined, though--as she thought about it now--it was likely more due to the fact she was broken.

     The slamming of her front door startled her, but as she heard the impatient heavy feet approaching, she simply went back to removing the last shards of glass from her hand.

     When a shadow filled the doorway, she asked, “Was this cage apart of your deal?”

     “I’m sorry?”

     Turning to take in the conflicted stance of Prince Charming, she clarified. “With Rumpel. Was this world, the dark curse, all apart of the deal you made with him?”

     Shaking his head, his confused stare darting from her wounded hand to her face and back again, he replied hesitantly, “We didn’t make any deal with Rumpel.”

     Regina scoffed, rolling her eyes and returning her attention back to tweezing glass out. “Of course you did. He prophesied the return of your daughter--the savior destined to break the curse--after all. Surely you knew that.”

     Silence passed for a few beats, the dolt trying to catch up to the conversation they were having.

     “He asked for her name,” he finally confessed, crossing his arms across his chest as he watched her pull a rather large piece of glass from the pad of her thumb, wincing as it clanked into the sink. “Why are you asking? I came here to talk about George.”

     Regina hummed.

     Of course he did.

     “Twenty eight years,” she said, tossing the last piece of glass, nestled deeply into her palm, into the sink. “That is how long we have been here.” She watched as the blood pooled in her hand. “And in those twenty eight years your wife, your precious Snow White, went to work as a school teacher, went home, read a book, watched some trashy tv, slept, ate and repeated her daily routine over and over again.” She turned her hand sideways and watched the blood trickle thinly down into the sink. “While you, her sworn protector, lay in a coma.”

     She could feel his body tensing at the reminder.

     Turning to meet his wary eyes, so much like Henry’s, so much like Emma’s, she finished softly, “Yet I did nothing. She lives, and here I sit, much like I always have, in a gilded cage.”

     He didn’t know what to say. Brooding shoulders aside, he appeared as much at a loss as to what to do as she did.

     Shaking her head wearily, she turned her attention back to her hand, the pain starting to remind her that she was in need of rest.

     “Go home, David.”

 

 

     Minutes later Prince Charming found himself slowly closing the gate to the former Mayor’s house, his thoughtful gaze glancing back one last time to the single light now on upstairs. Turning at the sound of approaching feet, he sighed as Grumpy and Nova--Henry trailing hesitantly beside them--greeted him impatiently.

     “Well,” the dwarf asked, his voice harsh against the settling quiet of the night.

     “I don’t know. I just,” glancing at Henry whose shoulders sagged at the sight of the light behind him going out, he shook his head. “We’ll keep an eye on her, for now.” When he saw his friend about to protest he raised a hand. “Please, Grumpy. It’s been a long day. I know what you saw, but...let’s just see how things play out.”

     “So she can curse us again? Or start taking us out one by one?” His voice rose with his growing anger, uncaring if Regina could hear him. “You should just do us all a favor and end her now!”

     “Enough,” David boomed, quickly reaching out to pull a startled Henry to his side. He was beyond frustrated, confused, and Grumpy was pushing on his last nerve. “I said let it be.”

     Betrayal flooded his friends eyes, and David felt immediate remorse. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the dwarf’s next words silenced him.

     “Snow would have never stood for this. The Queen was right. You’re no leader, you’re just a shepard pretending to be a king.”

     Frowning at the turn of events, David watched as Grumpy spun around and stormed away, Nova giving him an apologetic look in parting as she trailed behind her love.

 

*****

 

     Across town, where the waves lap at rocking boats under the full moon, the soft rhythmic thumping of a cane on wood sounded out among the creaking of masts and the scraping of wet nets dipping into water.

     Reaching the end of the dock he was on, Rumpel stared down into the pitch black below, studying it intently, before slowly raising his hand out. His magic reaching, the water began to tremor, churning and bubbling until a swaddled mass rose up from the depths into his outstretched hand.

     Gently peeling back the damp cloth, he smiled as the twinkling stars above illuminated the tip of a wand standing out among the others held in his grasp.

     “You're not as clever as you believe, George,” he murmured, wrapping his newly gained possessions back up. Pivoting on heel, Rumpel began a leisure stroll back towards his shop, a little bounce in his step and a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short post, but I wanted to move things along. I struggled a good bit in figuring out how to get to my next 'turning point' but I realized the doubt I had placed in my previous chapter needed to continue. Because I don't know. I don't know if Regina is going to sink into a dangerous depression, or if Grumpy is right, or if Rumpel has another manipulation up his sleeve. I do, however, know what happens next for Snow and the others, so expect another update to follow quickly behind this one--as soon as I get the chance, lol.


	19. Foreshadowed Fate

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     The lake was just ahead, Snow could picture it clearly in her mind as they approached the bend in the woods. Even under the shadows of a full moon, she could make out where the trees began to taper off, how the trail they were on was getting softer--turning to dry sand, and the areas of undergrowth that was dying out.

     Her heart picked up its pace, eyes surveying, growing more mindful of the possible dangers that lay ahead. Seeing that her daughter and Mulan had come to a stop just shy of the forest-line, Snow approached them quickly, Aurora--who had fallen back--jogging to catch up with her and join them.

     “So what’s the plan,” Emma asked, her own eyes sweeping the eerily silent woods. “Normally, when a mark tells me what they are up to, it’s meant to either distract me or lead me into a trap.” 

     Mulan nodded. A proven battle tactic, no matter the realm.

     Aurora frowned, anxious at the notion of being caught unexpectedly. She wasn’t like the others, she had minimal self defense training.

     Snow just chuckled.

     “Oh it’s definitely a trap,” she agreed, stifling a roguish smile at the wary and confused looks cast her way. “I’m not that naive to believe Hook and Cora  _ accidentally _ shared their plan for the wardrobe at lake Nostos.”

     Emma raised a skeptical brow and she frowned, gaze darting between her and Mulan.

     “What? You seriously think I’m that gullible?”

     Emma shrugged. “Well...Mary Margaret was, just a little.”

     Snow gasped, a bit hurt and annoyed. “She was a false personality concocted by Regina!  _ We _ are nothing alike!”

     “Sorry,” Emma mumbled, biting her lip, feeling a little guilty. 

     Aurora cleared her throat, drawing the two women back to the situation at hand. “So, the plan?”

     “I can scout the lake out,” Mulan offered.

     “Good, that’s a start,” Snow agreed, her persona shifting from irritated mother to battle-worn Queen. “Do it from the edge of the forest, use the trees best you can.”

     Mulan raised a brow at the veiled order but nodded in compliance. With a parting glance to Emma, she shifted away from the group and disappeared into the wild.

     Before Aurora could ask about herself, Snow turned to her and said, “We’re going to need a place to hide until Cora and Hook show up. Do you still have that dagger?” At the shake of her head, Snow drew a blade from her boot and handed it to her. “Take this then and see if you can find us a secluded location or shelter. Don’t go beyond shouting distance.”

     The redhead hesitated briefly before taking a deep breath and striding into the woods opposite the direction Mulan had gone, determined to prove she was useful.

     That left mother and daughter alone for the first time since landing in the Enchanted Forest.

     “So what about us,” asked Emma, turning in a slow circle, head tilting back briefly to take in the stars above them. She wondered in that moment what Henry was up to and felt a swell of emotion overtake her, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears.

     By the Gods she missed him  _ so much _ right now, far more than she expected to.

     “We take a moment and breath,” Snow replied softly, reaching out and taking Emma’s hand. “We haven’t exactly had that since we got here,” she chuckled, Emma laughing lightly with her.

     “We haven’t had that since before the curse broke,” the blond corrected, shaking her head. 

     “True,” Snow sighed.

     A calming silence fell between them, giving them each a chance to reflect. For snow, it brought back the thoughts she had earlier in the evening that had caused her heart to clench in pain. 

     “I’m sorry, Emma,” she whispered after a few beats, drawing a frown her daughter as she shifted towards her. “I’m sorry we sent you away. I’m sorry we didn’t find another option.”

     Emma bowed her head, kicking at some pebbles with the toe of her boots, her jaw locking with tension. Those words had been on her mind since she broke the curse, since she admitted to herself that everything Henry had told her was true, since the first time Snow had brought up the topic.

     But she honestly never expected to hear them. It was why she had tried to offer her mother some form of understanding, forgiveness in a sense, back at their castle. Because she got it, she knew perfectly well the rationale of their reasoning.

     “Like you said before, you were trying to give me my best chance,” she mumbled, echoing the words both her and Henry had used.

     “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” Snow acknowledged.

_      No, it doesn’t. _

     Emma choked on a sob, coughing into the back of her hand to cover it up. Her cruel mind replayed the very first conversation she ever had with the woman beside her.

_      ‘He’s like any adopted child. He wrestles with that most basic question they all inevitably face. Why would anyone give me away?’ _

     And she ached--for herself, and for Henry.

     Because emotions aren’t rational. You can’t talk them away or hope them better, and you can’t force broken bridges into repair in a single moment. All of it, like her relationship with Henry and her parents, was going to take time.

 

     Minutes ticked by, solitude eventually claiming them once more as Emma turned towards the direction Mulan had disappeared off to, trying to collect herself while hoping to catch sight of the other woman soon.

     Snow, wanting to give her daughter some space, moved towards the opposite forest edge where Aurora had trekked.

     Neither said a word until Snow sensed Emma settling back into her normal emotionally stunted walls.

     “Was Mary Margaret really that bad?” She had to ask, still perturbed by Emma’s earlier admittance.

     Surprised by the unexpected question, Emma glanced back at her mother.

     “No. I mean, you willingly invited a thief into your home. And the whole...” She struggled to find the right words. “Fooling around with a married man thing was a bit...naive, and...stupid.” She quickly raised a hand to stop her mother’s protest. “Not that I didn’t understand, as I said, been there myself. I know, you were drawn to David, and...knowing what I know now...obviously there were...extenuating circumstances.” Emma frowned. “I think.” Head tilting in thought, she abruptly shifted topics and asked, “Is his name really Charming?”

     Snow laughed, shaking her head. “No. It’s David, though most know him as James.” Raising her own hand to silence Emma’s next question she added, “It’s a long story. Short version, your father impersonated his deceased twin brother.”

     “Uhh, Ok.”  _ Say what? _ Emma shook her head at that unanticipated twist.  _ This place. _

     Snow gave her an impish smile. “One thing you’ll learn is that life here was never dull.”

     Emma groaned. “Oh I wish you wouldn’t have said that.”

     “What? Why? It’s true.”

     Body tensing, Emma pivoted on her heels and scanned their surroundings with apprehension. “Because every time someone says something like that--”

     A startling screech, so piercing both women crouched in pain, broke across the sky. 

     “Something bad happens,” Emma finished in an irritated whisper, glaring at her mother.

     The sound of crashing brush catching their attention, they backed each other quickly, weapons draw to each side of the trail. Chests heaving in rising panic, another scream--much closer than the last one--forced them to cover their ears and Emma struggled to remain on her feet as a shadowy form came rushing at her from the forest.

     Sword pointed with one hand while the other covered her left ear, Emma held her breath--frantically chanting  _ please be Mulan, please be Mulan _ , to herself--the approaching figure reaching the edge of the path.

     “We’ve got a problem” shouted an unexpected terrified voice from behind her and Emma whipped her head around in time to see Aurora making a mad dash their way.

     “What is it,” Snow called back, pushing off of Emma and scrambling to meet the other princess.

     “Harpies,” explained Mulan, breaking across the path, drawing Emma back around.

_      Harpies?! _ She shuddered at the word.

     “Like from Xena,” she asked, biting her lip just after the words left her, realizing none of them would know what she was talking about. “I mean, big ugly bird like women, right?” 

     Mulan nodded, eyes darting to Snow and Aurora. “It looks like they’ve claimed Nostos as their nesting ground. A half dozen there, at least.”

     Snow shook her head at the news.  This wasn’t good.

     A third screech shattered the air, followed this time by the sound of flapping wings. The group of women looked up into the sky and began backpedaling as a massive grotesque shape started flying their way.

     “What do we do,” Emma asked, fear gripping her. She was no warrior princess, she wasn’t skilled in this kind of shit!

     “We run,” Snow said, pushing at Aurora, then her, reaching for Mulan as she turned back the way they had come. “And I mean run!”

 

     The Gods be, she never imagined anything could be more terrifying than the Wraith that had claimed Phillip...until she saw the Harpies. Of all things that had given her nightmares as a child, the stories of the beastly women that roamed skies hunting for children to swoop down and steal away, were one of the worst. Many a nights she had awoken, stricken with paralyzing fear, while the very real creatures now pursuing them hunted her in her dreams.

     A bone chilling thought gripped Aurora suddenly as she stumbled in her haste.  _ Were those nightmares a foreshadowing of her fate? _

     “Duck,” Mulan shouted from beside her and she cried out, throwing herself to the ground, hands flying up to cover her head.

     A consuming thunder descend upon them, sharp angry talons scratching at her knuckles while the foreign warrior’s sword whistled in the air in counter-strike. She screamed, her voice echoing in the raging call of the Harpy as it sailed back up into the sky above, preparing to attack again.

     Rough hands grabbing her under her arms, she was hauled violently to her feet and pushed forward back into a punishing run. Tears swimming in her eyes, blurring her vision, she felt the hand still on her right bicep turn her away suddenly, making her stumble, Mulan ordering, “Into the woods, now! Use the trees as cover!”

     A blur darted past her and she gasped, Snow, followed by Emma, were racing into the forest ahead of them.

     She tried to follow, to regain her footing, but her body was stiffening like it did long ago, locking up in absolute dread, her heart hammering in her ears, her chest squeezing to the point she could barely breath.

      Descending thunder dived towards her once more and her heart stopped abruptly in jarring horror as she heard Mulan scream her name, before something cracked her across the side of her head, and she fell into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay excitement!
> 
> Sigh. Even though I like this scene, it was hard fought. Out of everyone introduced to us in season 2 of OUAT, Aurora is one that feels absolutely pointless. I have spent most of my time playing out every possible scenario I can think of to give her a purpose, a stronger connection with the other characters than what she has at the moment.
> 
> But I don't know...the only one I can think of that will have impacting ramifications, doesn't bode well for the sleeping beauty.


	20. Oh no

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

Henry closed his eyes, finally trying to get some sleep after his unexpected nap earlier that day. It was going to be a long while before he could enjoy one of Granny’s milkshakes. He wasn’t happy that she hurt him like that. He had trusted her, and Ruby and Belle, though he knew the two of them had no part in Granny slipping him a sleeping pill.

Still, his trust was fragile right now and he was quickly running out of people he felt safe with. Grumpy’s words and angry face from earlier came to mind and he frowned, biting his lip as his heart ached with the dwarf’s words. Was it true? Was his mom lying to them all? Was she still evil?

Gramps didn’t seem to think so, and Henry was honestly surprised by the fighting between him and Grumpy over it. He had claimed his mom just had a lot to work through, what, Henry didn’t know, but he hoped in the end it was a good thing. Because he needed his mom right now, especially if there was a chance Emma may never make it back.

_ Emma _ .

     He missed her, so so much.

     Realistically, he was aware they didn’t know each other all that much, but he loved her, and she obviously loved him--breaking the curse with true love’s kiss and all that. He wants the time, the chance to get to know her, to be a family of some kind.

Which was why he was so desperately forcing himself to lay still right now, to get comfortable so he could fall asleep. The weight of the locket Gold had given him sat upon his chest like the Eye of Magnus did for Dr. Strange. He could sense the potential in it, and though he feared experiencing the magic it had, he needed to know if it works, if he can control the room of fire.

Because there was just something important about it he couldn’t shake, something, he felt, that might lead them one step closer to bringing Snow White and Emma home.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

Aurora slowly opened her eyes--a fuzzy sensation weighing her consciousness down like she was pushing out of a deep sleep--and saw nothing.

Blackness swallowed her gaze, stretching as far as she could see, even above her as she slowly rolled onto her back.

_ Where was she? What had happened? _

Reaching a hand she could only feel up to her face, she touched it gently, trying to organize her muddy thoughts.  _ Where’s Mulan? Emma? Snow? _ She seemed fine physically, from what she could gather by touch.

     “H-hello,” she called out weakly, her voice croaking like it had gone unused for quite sometime.

     What had they been up to? She could vaguely remember traveling, to where she couldn’t recall--and then suddenly a sharp pain was shooting through her head like she had been struck.

     Gasping at the agonizing pulse, she unexpectedly found herself moving, flying past a swirling vortex of colors, until she was standing upright on a path in the Enchanted Forest.

     Taking in shallow breaths, trying to catch her bearings, she heard a murmuring of voices and hesitantly stepped towards them, about to call out as she saw a familiar shape huddle against a tree holding something.

     Her words died on her lips, however, as the figure turned and she could fully see it was indeed Mulan, her back pinned to a tree--her eyes wild with fear--holding on tightly...to Aurora herself.

_      Oh no. _

     “Hello beautiful,” came a soft voice beside her.

     Startled, the redhead whipped around and came face to shocking face with Phillip.

 

*****

 

     “Come on princess, I need you to wake up,” whispered Mulan harshly, her heart hammering in her chest, fear gripping at her senses. The weight of the woman in her arms, unfortunately, remained heavy and mute.

     She shook her head, angry at Aurora, angry at herself, at the situation they were in right now.

     This was not how things were suppose to go. They were to have the opportunity to turn back, to get away before it got too dangerous. It was what she and Emma had agreed upon.

But one of those damn Harpies had caught them by surprise, likely drawn out by Aurora’s shout, and it had cost the woman.

“Please,” she begged, a single tear trickling down her cheek as she pulled the redhead in closer, fingers gently touching the massive quickly bruising gash on the side of her head. “Please come back to me.”

She couldn’t lose her. Not after Phillip. It was too soon. 

 

*****

 

Snow’s chest was heaving, her breathing ragged and harsh with waning stamina as she continued racing through the moonlit woods--dodging and weaving hidden boulders and fallen trees with muscle memory from her years as a bandit. Her and Emma had to at least be a quarter mile deep, the sound of the angry Harpy growing distant.

Slowing her pace, eventually reaching a massive chest high stone, she came to a rest--hands planted on her knees, stomaching rolling from panic and adrenaline.

Emma stumbled to a stop seconds later beside her, hitting the rock violently with her back as she planted herself against it, eyes darting from the forest around them to the sky above.

“Where...is...Mulan,” she wheezed, sweat dripping down her terrified face.

Gaze darting around them, Snow felt her unsettled stomach begin to sink. “I...wasn’t she right behind...us?

Emma shook her head. “I don’t...I think I heard her...scream Aurora’s name...or something....but,” her hands shook as she tried to wipe her face clean, “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

Snow bit her lip, blue eyes darting from her very panicked daughter to the direction they had just run from.

“We’ll...give them...a minute,” she decided, turning to back herself against the stone as well, sitting and reaching out for Emma’s hand. “And if we don’t...hear or...see them soon...we’ll start looking.”

_ No one get’s left behind _ , Emma silently heard in her mother’s words, and she nodded in agreement even though the idea of going back to face the flock of Harpies chilled her to the bone.

 

*****

 

The ungodly cawing of a winged creature drew Cora and Hook to their respective windows in the carriage, looking out and up into the inky sky. Ind the distance, large, looming ugly shapes dove and pitched in a frenzy, stirred--obviously--by something...or someone, on the ground below.

“Are those what I think they are,” Hook asked, attention shifting from the disturbing sight to Cora and back.

“Yes.”

“Hideous things, Harpies,” he murmured. “Their water-faired familials kept my crew and I on edge whenever they were about.”

“Did you ever kill one,” Cora asked, the path of their ghostly drawn carriage unchanging as they neared closer to the angry monsters.

“Aye,” the Captain replied, unconsciously fiddling with his hook at the memory. “With a harpoon.” He glanced her way, knowing eyes meeting. “Tipped with magic, of course, as we both know, it’s the only thing that can penetrate their hides.”

“Of course,” Cora echoed, a smirk tipping her fine lips upward.

 

*****

 

“Phillip,” Aurora gushed--joy at seeing her true love soaring through her,--and she reached out to him, drawing him in as he wrapped his arms around her.

She buried her face into the side of his neck and breathed, his comforting scent filling her nostrils. She could feel her heart thundering against her chest, the strain in her arms as she held him to her tightly, the discomfort of her dress bunching up--caught against his armor.

But she could not feel him.

Not like she should, not like she needed to.

_ Phillip. _

_ The Wraith. _

__ _ He’s not suppose to be here. _

     Stepping back with uncertainty, she eyed him, reassuring herself he was indeed there looking at her, before turning her head slightly to still see Mulan sitting with her...body...in her arms.

Swallowing thickly, a painful lump rising in her throat, Aurora stuttered, “Ph-Phillip? W-what’s going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no indeed! 
> 
> I seriously did not expect things to go this way, like what the hell? Lol. But I just started writing and this came about and, well...I guess we'll just have to see what happens next :).
> 
> I think Aurora just got hella interesting.


	21. Between Free Will and Destiny

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

 One second Henry was thinking about the latest Thor comic his mom had bought him and the next he was thinking how warm he was.

     Eyes popping open, Henry found a wall of fire surging in front of him, the stench of burning glass filling his nostrils. Fear flushing across his skin, he stumbled back as the flames licked forward. Heart pounding, Henry quickly raised his hands to the locket around his neck and gripped tightly.

      _You can do this_ , he thought. _Once you can control something, you no longer fear it._

     Licking his lips, taking in a shuddering breath, then another, he forced himself to stand tall even though his legs were trembling.

     "I can do this," he repeated aloud this time, thinking of Emma, of Snow, of his Gramps and all of Storybrooke.

     And of his mom, the woman who had raised him for ten years, the one--he was beginning to realize--in need of a hero.

     "I can do this."

     Taking in another breath, Henry closed his eyes, picturing the fire raging before him, and began willing it away with all his might.

****

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Prince Phillip gave his love a sad smile, gaze lazily drawing around them, a sigh escaping his lips.

     “Have you ever wondered about our story,” he asked, eyes landing on Mulan holding Aurora’s body just meters away. “How it’s to be?”

     Shaking her head, confused by his question, Aurora took in a ragged breath, trying to calm herself. “No, I haven’t, because our story is our own, and it’s not done yet.”

     Laughing, Phillip stepped closer, his eyes shifting from melancholy to reproach. “Come now, Aurora, you know that’s not true.”

     “Destiny is forged by the steps of free will,” she argued, frowning at her love. The air about him was moving, changing from the companionable comfort she knew to something else, something hot and burnt.

     “Hardly,” he bit out, gaze darting back to her and Mulan who seemed almost frozen in time. “We do not make our fate, Princess, it is bestowed upon us--seared into our souls by the gods of old the moment we are conceived.”

     Taking a step back, hackles rising at the man growing tense beside her, Aurora replied, “If that’s the case, then tell me my destiny. Tell me,  _ Phillip _ , what comes next.” She gestured to herself and their foreign friend. “What lies ahead for all of us.”

     She didn’t understand what was going on, what was coming over the man before her. She had never seen him angry, never knew him to rage, not once.

     Leaning forward, eyes growing dark with a bubbling malice much like dark magic, Phillip raised his hands and sneered, “The same as I received when you left me to the Wraith. Death.”

     And then he shoved her.

     A scream tore from her throat as she felt herself falling...and falling...descending rapidly further into swallowing darkness once more until she suddenly hit bottom, red lightning flashing across her sight as her head cracked hard against the floor.

     Ears ringing, a crackling echo in her skull, she tried to regain her senses.

     Eventually a muffled voice, one that sounded nothing like the phantom Phillip she had been accosted by, pulled at her, encouraging her to turn their way. Heart pounding, her body breaking into a panicked sweat all over again, Aurora curled in on herself and cried out in terror, “No! Leave me be! Just leave me be!”

     But the voice refused to go, growing closer, bringing a scalding warmth with it that she could feel on her hands and face.

     Cowering into herself as much as possible, she whimpered, desperately wishing whatever it was away...until the gentlest of hands landed on her shoulder.

     “Hey,” the young voice said, anxious but unafraid. “Are you ok?”

     Tilting her head just the slightest at the unexpected concern, Aurora cracked open one hazel eye and saw the outline of someone kneeling over her.

     Clearing her throat, body quaking with fright, she asked hesitantly, “Wh-who are you?”

     Kneeling back so the figure was no longer shadowed, a brown haired boy smiled and said, “My name’s Henry. What’s yours?

 

*****

 

     The harpy that had attacked sailed overhead, no doubt searching the woods for its wounded prey. Remaining as still as possible, Mulan waited until the thing had flown out of sight, before shifting Aurora to the ground beside her. Eyes darting over the still limp woman, she took in the inky spiderweb spreading out from the gash on her head and frowned.

     “Poison,” she muttered to herself, fingers reaching out to trace the slowly growing lines.

     Her heart clenched.

     Reaching out for her satchel, she pulled it open, rummaging through her belongings, but she felt helpless. Harpies were known, but not common in her land, and she had never encountered one to know how to counteract their venom.

     Hearing a low rumbling sound in the distance, she whipped her head around and eyed the shadowy path between the trees, hunkering herself closer to the ground as a shape appeared. The faint acrid stench of magic drifted across her nose and Mulan snarled as the travelling object grew closer.

     “Cora.”

 

*****

 

     Snow and Emma moved carefully, using the canopy of large trees for cover as they made their way back towards where Mulan and Aurora should be. The harpy was circling like a vulture, but no longer dive bombing the treetops, content to wait them out. Thankfully they were lone hunters, meaning the others would not join in unless the creature felt outnumbered. However, should one of them be caught by it, they would be returned to the nest and shared among its fledgling. 

     It was not an experienced Snow wanted to endure.

     Spotting something ahead of them move suddenly, Snow stopped, reaching out to keep Emma positioned behind her, and scanned the shadows--trying to decipher them. She watched for a few bated breaths, ears straining for any other sounds of movement.

     When the woods remained quiet and still once more, Snow crouched and slowly crept forward, gaze shifting about, Emma following suit.

     They covered a few more yards, time dragging by them, until spotting two figures lying on the ground by a massive pine. Biting her lip to keep from calling out--Emma whispering Mulan’s name in concern as she spotted Aurora’s badly battered face--she took in the foreign warrior’s tense form. As if sensing her gaze, the dark-haired beauty shifted her head back just enough to see them, before placing a finger to her lips and motioning towards the trail in the distance.

     Hearing a sound they hadn’t registered seconds before, Emma and Snow both dropped flat--mirroring their companion--and watched intently as something loud and large drew closer. Recognizing the distinct rhythmic pattern of coach wheels, Snow watched with practiced eyes as the carriage rolled--horseless--right towards them. Her fingers twitched around her bow, muscles growing taunt with restraint, willing herself to remain hidden from view.

     “Is that who I think it is,” Emma asked, gaze darting from Mulan, to Snow, and back to the carriage.

     “Yes,” she replied, the bandit within her taking stock of their situation, scenario after scenario running through her mind, assessing their options.

     “What now?”

     Hearing the harpy screech out, obviously spotting the vehicle while it came about, Snow focused on it and rasped, “We wait.” 

 

*****

 

     “Henry,” Aurora repeated and the boy nodded, scooting back a bit to let her push up from her prone position. As she did, she spotted her movements being reflected just feet away and paused, gaze sweeping the almost familiar room.

     “Fire,” she whispered, realizing that the heat surrounding her and Henry was rising steam. “The fire. I-it’s...gone.”

     “Yeah, I made it go away,” the boy replied and Aurora turned to him, eyes focusing on the locket held up between his hands. “With this.”

     “What is it,” she asked curiously, relief washing through her.

     Henry shrugged, brows drawn in thought. “Some kind of potion. Rumpelstiltskin gave it to me so I could control this place when I visit.”

     “Rumpelstiltskin? This--this isn’t a dream?”

     He shook his head. “Nope. This is real, like a room between worlds.”

     “Between worlds?” Eyeing him thoughtfully, Aurora asked suddenly. “Are you from another world?”

     Henry nodded. “I’m from a town called Storybrooke.” He glanced down at the locket in his hands, fingers caressing it restlessly. “I’m looking for my mom.”

_      Henry. She knew a Henry...or, knew of a Henry. She just couldn’t place where....Emma! _

     Gasping, Aurora reached out and gripped Henry by his arms. “You’re Henry? Emma’s Henry?”

     Eyes blowing wide, the boy asked tremulously, “You know my mom?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at this point I'd say we are two chapters in to what would be my 'epi 2x08' of OUAT. I think "Foreshadowed Fate" is a great title, because it's not just relevant to Aurora's character, but everyone. "Between Free Will and Destiny" is another hint at what will likely be my 'mid-season' event that they are so famous for, and I hope you are all enjoying my interpretation so far.
> 
> Also, I am truly surprised to see Aurora fill out, she's an unexpected dark horse, but I'm ecstatic to not have her go to waste.


	22. A Change in Plans

**_The Room of Fire_ **

 

     “Is she ok? Is Snow with her? Where are they?” The words were tumbling out of Henry’s mouth as fast as his heart was beating in his chest.

     Nodding her head, running her hands soothingly over his arms, Aurora replied, “They’re in the Enchanted Forest with myself and Mulan.”

     “The Enchanted Forest? So it still exists?” Relief and excitement washed over him. If they were in Fairy-tale land then they could be reached! There was a way to bring them home!

     “Yes, it does, but it’s in danger Henry, we’re all in danger,” Aurora warned, fear filling her eyes once more. “They’ve been trying to find a way back home, Snow and Emma. We’re at Lake Nostos right now with a magical compass to try and open a portal, but someone is hunting us, someone very dark who wants to get to your world as well.”

     Frowning, Henry gripped Aurora back, his hands shaking as he tried to steady her. “Who? Who’s after you?”

     “Cora,” the princess replied with a shuddering breath. “The Queen of Hearts, Queen Regina’s mother.”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     “Well it seems your plan has backfired a bit, love,” Hook exclaimed, looking out the carriage window once more at the harpy that was now circling above them as they approached the lake.

     “Surely we did not beat those fools here,” Cora murmured in thought, keeping track of the angry fowl as well.

     “Perhaps they failed in their attempt to defeat it.”

     Cora shook her head. No. One thing she had taken into account was Snow White’s uncanny ability to come out of any situation alive. The repugnant heroine was a well trained fighter, her years spent successfully hiding from her daughter proving she had deft skills and tactic. Add in the irritating warrior from Chin and there was no reason for the group of women to not succeeded.

     “No, something’s off,” she replied, eyes sweeping the woods around them. “Something’s gone quite wrong.”

 

*****

 

**_The Room of Fire_ **

 

     Henry’s thundering heart stuttered and dropped a little into his gut.

     The Queen of Hearts. His...grandmother...was after Snow and his mom.

     They needed help, he needed to get them help, and fast!

     “How are you here,” he asked the woman before him, his gaze darting over her. He didn’t recognize her from his book. “Ar-are you asleep?  Are they safe at the moment?”

     Aurora shook her head, letting go of Henry and sitting back on her knees. “N-no, I-I don’t know. We were scouting around Lake Nostos when a...Harpy...spotted us. We took off running, all of us, and Mulan shouted for us to split up. I turned to run into the woods, behind your mother and Snow, b-but...something happened, something hit me and...” she trailed off, taking in the room around them, noting the mirrors that covered every surface. “I don’t know why I’m back here. If this isn’t a dream, if this is another place then...”

     Henry could see the panic starting to set, the princess’ chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly, tears filling her eyes. He bit his lip, unsure what to do. He never had to comfort someone before, he was just a kid, he didn’t have anyone to look after.

_      What would mom do? What would Gramps do? _

     Thinking about his family, about how his mom would soothe him when he was distressed, about how his Gramps found hope and believed everything would turn out right no matter what, Henry took a deep breath and reached out to Aurora once more, gripping her by the arms and drawing her attention back to him.

     “It’s going to be alright,” he told her in a matter of fact tone. “I know you’re scared, but I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me.”

     Aurora gave him an odd look before shaking her head to dismiss his words. “You don’t understand, Henry. I may very well be--”

     “No!” He cut her off with a firm dismiss, much like his mother’s. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not true. You’re not...dead...if you were, you wouldn’t be here now. This place is an in-between, somewhere we can come back from.” He drew her closer, face growing hopeful like his Gramps. “You will wake up. You will make it back to my mom and Snow, because I need you to do what I can’t. I need you to tell them that we’re looking too, that they have to make the portal at lake Nostos work. I need them to. We all need them to!”

     Never had she heard and felt such an impassioned speech from someone so young. Chest quivering, Aurora took in a steadying breath, then another, and a third, before she nodded her head in understanding.

     He needed her. 

     Doubt flooded her system, and her mind screamed he was delusional.

     But he needed her.

     This boy, with anxious eyes and trembling hands--who smelled of fear and innocence--traveled bravely across worlds to find his mother.

     So she let her heart swell with hope.

     Because he needed her, and she could do this.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Emma and Snow slowly crawled across the forest floor towards Mulan and Aurora, eyes darting every couple of seconds to the harpy that was following the horseless carriage as it hauntingly rolled by them. From her current position mere feet away Emma could already spot the gruesome wound on the side of Sleeping Beauty’s face. She cringed at the angry swelling and bruising around it, the odd veiny webbing leaking from the gash making her stomach turn.

_      Shit. If we don’t do something soon, she’s going to die. _

     Turning towards her mother, she saw the grim look on Snow’s face and caught her eyes, having a silent conversation of agreement.

     The portal was going to have to wait.

     They needed to save the fair princess first.

 

*****

 

     Hearing the harpy above begin to chatter the closer they drew to the lake, Cora slowed the carriage to a crawl and turned, focusing her attention out the window facing ahead. The sun would be rising soon, the shadows around them starting to turn into a hazy shade of blue. But there, in the clearing around the barren landscape, were the creature’s visible kin.

     The hybrid fowls strutted about a cluster of nests, their talons digging into the sand, their long pointed fingers scratching and picking at one another.

     “I don’t like this,” Hook stated from his side of the carriage, his gaze wary as he studied the deadly fiends. “Your magic aside, we’re well out numbered and those are odds I’m not willing to bet my life on, your Majesty.”

     “We’ve come too far to retreat, dear Captain,” she replied, anger swelling inside of her at the notion of failing.

     She had sacrificed too much, had waited too long to get to this point. She wasn’t going to turn back now due to a mere obstacle. It was simply unacceptable.

     “A wise man knows when to fall back,” he argued. He wanted to reach Storybrooke as much as she did, but not at such a foolish risk.

     “And a wise woman knows how to turn a situation about,” she countered, a gleam settling in her eyes. Chin rising and back straightening, Cora reached for the door handle. “Come and watch, Pirate, how a ruler shifts the tide on a battlefield.”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Regina finished the last button on her sleeve, sliding her hands down the front of her blue dress shirt as her gaze met her reflection in the full length mirror before her. Brown orbs noted every line of her trim figure, double checking that all was in place from her black boots, to her slacks, to her perfectly styled hair.

     She looked like herself once more, even with the large skin colored bandages secured over her still very tender palm. 

     Last night had been a turning point.

     With a decanter in hand and easy access to her large supply of cider, she had spent many hours debating what daylight would bring. So many emotions had bubbled up out of her, leaving more than one mirror in her home smashed into bits as she tore them from the walls. Couches had been overturned, and even a few vases had suffered her wrath, shattering into shards of pottery that matched her broken soul.

     It had been violently cathartic.

     She had weighed many options. Had considered every pro and con that popped into her inebriated mind. In the end, just before she had drifted off into an exhausted sleep, she had finally found a resolution.

     Glancing at her watch, she noted that she had succeeded in getting ready for the day, giving herself as much ample time as possible to put things into motion. Shifting her sight to her closet once more, she let her eyes rest on the two large suitcases neatly stacked within--the hangers about them practically bare--before softly closing the door.

     Raising her chin, letting her natural regal mask fall into place, Regina strode purposefully from her bedroom, down her steps, past the still trashed living room, and towards her front door. Pausing once to grab her keys, she opened the white stained entrance and closed it with a simple click behind her--never once looking back.

 

*****

 

     Ruby nudged the foliage around her, happily sniffing out the trail she had followed on her nighttime run back to where the cavern entrance was. Even in wolf form she could sense the passage of time, the tingling in her limbs letting her know the sun would be up in a couple of hours. Spotting a rock formation she had seen before, she trotted quickly towards it around a bend, tail wagging as she saw the deep gorge come into sight.

     Reaching its edge, she took a moment and sat down, eyes sweeping and ears prickling with attention. Her run and been amazing, taking her depths below Storybrooke to untraversed streams and glittering trees. She couldn’t wait to tell Granny what she had seen. It was almost like being back in the Enchanted Forest, but better.

     Hairs suddenly raising on the back of her neck, Ruby growled, sensing movement ahead. Turning her nose upward, she sniffed the air, preparing to defend herself from the unwanted visitor until a familiar scent caught her attention. Head tilting curiously, she waited until the figure came into view before deciding it was time to cross the gorge.

     Pacing a few yards back, she let out a deep breath before breaking into a rushing run and leaping as far as her body could go. She landed skillfully just feet from her trespasser, pleased that the hours spent here had allowed her to get reacquainted with this form of herself.

     Unable to change back on her own just yet, she sat down in front of the other woman and waited to see why she was here. When the brunette reached out, palm open, unafraid, she leaned hesitantly forward until fingers gently glided across the side of her face.

     “Did you have a good run,” asked a husky voice, making Ruby’s spine shiver at the tone.

     She licked the palm under her nose and whined.

_      Hell yeah she had a good run! All thanks to her, no less! _

     Dark eyes shining with pleasure, the beauty leaned forward herself, lowering her gaze so they were face to face.

     “Good girl,” she praised.

     Stroking fingers through soft black fur, scratching affectionately at Ruby’s jaw just below her ear, Regina felt a thrill run down her own spine as she finally asked the large wolf, “How would you like to go hunting, hmm?”

     Black irises glimmered yellow in response and Regina smiled, the beast’s tail wagging in delight.

_      Excellent. _

 

     Minutes later the Big Bad Wolf and the Evil Queen quietly exited the library elevator, a finger going to her Majesty’s lip as she pointed towards a sleeping Princess with her head nestled in a book. Sniffing the air to be sure Belle was resting naturally on her own, Ruby followed Regina out of the clock tower and into the pre-dawn. 

     Drawing in a deep breath as they left the building behind, the clicking of the Queen’s boots matching the rhythm of her claws upon the sidewalk, Red glanced at the fading twilight around them, and then turned to the other woman, silently asking,  _ now what? _

     Gesturing towards the empty streets around them, Regina replied, “I think it’s time we find your cloak, don’t you?”

     Ruby felt her pulse double, the predator within salivating at the possibility of getting back what was hers. Catching a matching gleam in the eyes beside her, her chest rumbled with pleasure and she took off towards a trail exiting the woods just ahead of them as they rounded the street corner.

     She could hear a throaty chuckle floating on the wind behind her and it excited her even more knowing that she wasn’t hunting alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Aurora is really finding herself. Talk about stepping up! And Henry, that kid's going places--likely driving his mothers to an early grave due to stress, but that boy IS the truest believer and he's going to save them dammit! 
> 
> Cora is just an outright bat shit crazy creepy fuck. I love her.
> 
> Regina, Regina, Regina. Her and I had a very long talk the last two nights over this. I know I posted in previous notes I was unsure what would come next for her. Now though, we (she) has a plan and I think you are going to like it very much. It's in character, and it's the most sound option available to her.
> 
> Ruby. Damn girl. I mean, I think you need to consider the consequences of indulging Regina, but I can't blame ya. Who wouldn't be stimulated by the notion of the fucking Evil Queen seeking you out to go on a hunting trip? ;). The visual is just...*shivers*


	23. Best Laid Plans

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     King George settled the kettle on the burner, making sure the blue flame was distributing evenly on the pot’s bottom, before turning to look out his cabin kitchen window. Nothing but forest tinted in shades of blue greeted him. He sighed in content. The sound of the woods slowly coming alive while time ticked closer to sunrise reminded him of back home.

     As ruler he was often up before rays of light could filter thru his bedroom window. There was much for a man like him to do to keep his Kingdom going, and sometimes the only respite he could get from it all was in the murmuring of pre dawn--alone in his study.

     He longed for that solitude once more. Wealth and power he still had, thanks to Regina, but peace was something he could only find on his own. With Snow White and her ill bred daughter trapped worlds away from that Shepard--the last penance for his crimes, he was finally ready to move on.

     Hearing water begin to hiss and bubble from his kettle, he reached into his cabinet and drew down a cup and a bag of tea. Turning towards the stove, an unexpected sound from outside his back door caught his attention. Tilting his head to listen carefully, he caught the noise again, a commotion of sorts, before he heard a high pitched scream--quickly followed by shouting.

     Marvis.

     The former guard had been sitting outside in his car all night, keeping watch in case anyone managed to stumble upon his little hideout.

     Switching the burner on his stove off, George quickly moved from the kitchen to the living room where he had a gun cabinet placed along the far wall of the tiny hunting cabin. Opening it, he reached for the nearest rifle and had his hand just clutching a box of shells when another suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist--stilling him.

     “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a low voice, seductive and deadly as it caressed against his skin.

     Hearing another scream come from outside, he swiveled his head around to face the grinning woman beside. “Regina.” He eyed her curiously. “I take it you’ve come to make a deal?”

     Gripping his wrist a little tighter, digging her nails in just enough to make him wince, she hummed and replied, “Something like that.” She stepped closer, pressing lightly against him. “Let’s just say, if I don’t leave here with what I want, well,” she paused, listening to a loud growl rattle the walls from outside. “I’ll just have to let Miss Lucas in.”

     Eyes gleaming with a malice he had not seen in a long time, George placed the rifle back in its slot and gestured towards the kitchen. “Tea?”

 

*****

 

     Henry shot up in bed, heart pounding, sweat soaking his clothes.

_      Emma and Snow were alive! _

     Flipping his covers off, he raised out of his mother’s bedroom and down the stairs towards the bed his Gramps was sleeping in. Skidding to a stop in front of the older man, he took a deep breath--shaking his head to wake himself up more fully--and then reached out with both hands to jar Prince Charming awake.

     “Wha-what is it,” David rasped, pushing up--much like Henry had--from his prone form on Snow’s bed. Eyes bleary, head still a mush of fogginess, he swept his unsteady gaze around the room until it landed on a shaggy boy. “Henry? What is it? What’s wrong?”

     “Emma and Snow are alive,” he croaked, his throat dry from his experience. Clearing it, he reached out and grabbed David’s arm. “You have to get up, we have to go get mom!”

     “Woah. Woah. Slow down.” David shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of his thoughts and get his brain going. “What now?”

     Henry sighed. “I went back to the room of fire, the one Mr. Gold said was in another realm.” David frowned at that but he rushed on. “I met a girl there. She said she was from the Enchanted Forest and that she was travelling with Snow and Emma.” His Gramp’s eyes lit up at that and he swung his feet off the bed, landing heavily on either side of him. “They’re trying to get home by using a portal at some lake. Uh, uh, Nostos. Lake Nostos!”

     David beamed, hope swelling inside of him. Gripping his Grandson, he squeezed his arms affectionately, excitement coursing through his veins. “I knew it, kid, I knew it!”  

     They both laughed.

     Emma and Snow were within reach, they could practically feel it. Their family would be whole again in no time.

     Henry’s joy, however, started to fade off as he remembered what else he had been told. “But we have to get my mom. Like now. They’re in trouble. They’re being hunted!”

     David felt his heart clench, a flush of cold sweat breaking out across his skin as his own happiness got swept away. “Hunted? By who?”

     Henry bit his lower lip, his eyes flickering between anger and fear. 

 

*****

 

     Rumple stared at the open elevator doors with a narrowed gaze. He could smell Regina’s magic lingering in the air, the slightly dense bittersweet scent burned upon his senses. He had hoped to beat the woman here so he could have a little chat with Miss Lucas and the Shepherd alone.

     Hearing a noise from the stairwell near by, he turned towards it and let a small soft smile grace his face as Belle descending his way, a shy smile tugging at her own lips, their eyes meeting. Letting his drift briefly from her delicate features, down to her dress and back, he complimented, “You look lovely, Belle.”

     The young woman’s smile blossomed and he stepped aside, gesturing towards the double doors behind them. “Shall we?”

     Nodding, Belle lead the way, Rumpel falling into step behind her.

     Glancing back over his shoulder at the parted mirrors one last time, curiosity and unease poking at his senses, he felt compelled to ask, “Miss Lucas didn’t give us any trouble, did she?”

     Belle, who had reached the main door, opened it and shrugged. “None that I’m aware of. David and Regina must have let her out while I was resting. The doors were open when I awoke.”

     Rumpel paused, brow drawn in a frown. “You didn’t hear them come and go?”

     The brunette shook her head no and sighed as Rumpel bit his lip in concern. “I’m sure everything is fine. If something had happened we would know.” Looking him up and down, she asked, “Now. Are you ready for breakfast?”

     He hesitated a few seconds before finally nodding towards the open door. “Yes, let’s.”

     The questions building in his mind would have to wait for later.

 

*****

 

     Bringing his truck to a screeching halt outside of 108 Mifflin Street, David jogged around to catch up with Henry who was already out the truck and about to push through the iron gate nestled between hedges.

     He had no idea what state Regina was in. After last night he wasn’t sure if she would still be a broken but reforming mother, or her former self in full glory. Either way, he didn’t want Henry to be caught off guard by whatever lay beyond the white door ahead. 

     They were almost to the porch steps when an unexpected voice called out behind them.

     “David? Henry? What are you guys doing here?”

     Turning, Grandfather and Grandson caught sight of Ruby--decked in her clothes from yesterday--and Regina, sidestepping the truck and pushing through the gate towards them with matching frowns on their faces.

     “Why are you here so early? What’s going on,” Regina asked, concern lacing her words.

     Taking in her attire--including the bag she was holding--and Ruby who seemed nonplussed to be standing beside her, David narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I could ask you the same thing. I thought we agreed to let Red out together.”

     Eyes darting to the older woman, Ruby shifted nervously. “We uh, we had something to take care of.”

     “Before sunrise,” Henry asked, skeptically. Spotting the barely visible bandage on his mother’s hand, he felt his heart stutter. “What happened? How did you get hurt?”

     Glancing at her palm, Regina curled her fingers inward, as if to hide the wound, and waved Henry’s concern off. “It’s nothing, I accidentally broke a glass last night.” Turning her attention to David, she reached into the bag she was carrying and produced a red cloak, gesturing it towards the Prince before giving it to the waitress beside her. “We retrieved her cloak. Among other things.”

     “You went after George?” David frowned, irritation swelling within him. “That was very stupid, and dangerous?”  _ They had worked well yesterday as a team, dammit, why did she have to suddenly go rogue now? _

     Regina chuckled, a low mirth filling the sound in a way that made the hairs on his arms stand up.

     “King George is not a threat to me,” she replied. “Nor to anyone else, not anymore at least.”

     Henry’s eyes bugged. “You killed him?” Gaze darting to Ruby, he asked incredulously, voice cracking in rising pitch “You ate him?”

     Both women frowned, hurt by the accusation. “No,” they defended in unison.

     Henry flinched with shame.

     It wasn’t like the thought was ridiculous.

     “I made a deal,” Regina explained with an irritated sigh, attention turning back towards David. “In exchange for passage out of town, he returned Miss Lucas’ cloak and revealed the location of the wands.”

     “But no one can leave. If they do, they forget who they are,” David argued, perplexed and pissed off by the barter.

     This was not how things were suppose to go, not at all.

     “That’s not entirely true,” Regina revealed, surprising them. “The barrier is land locked. Vessels can still come and go via the harbor, otherwise our economy would collapse. I simply encouraged George to take his yacht and...set sail, never to return.”

     David glared at her.

     He wasn’t happy about this. George was his problem. He had the right to deal with the man on his own, and Regina had interfered, yet again, in their feud. Her doing things behind his back like this was just adding fuel to the fire of doubt growing within him.

     Maybe Grumpy was right.

     He was being too lenient with her.

     Or he was being played, falling foolishly into another trap.

     “Good. I’m glad he’s gone.” Henry finally replied, drawing everyone’s attention towards him, reminding David why they were there in the first place. “Because we’ve got another problem. Emma and Snow are in the Enchanted Forest.” Ruby gasped, eyes darting between David and Henry before settling on Regina’s surprised face. “They’ve reached Lake Nostos. They’re trying to open a portal home, but they’re not alone.”

     His anguished eyes settling on his startled mother, shoulders trembling slightly with the weight of his news, Henry added softly, “They’re being hunted, mom,...by Cora.”

     The bag Regina was holding fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

 

     Another glass smashed against the wall, the three occupants in the kitchen flinching, eyes shifting uncomfortably around them as they kept the volatile woman on the other side of the counter.

     They had been shocked by the condition of the living room when they had followed her into the house, Henry having never witnessed the space in such a destructive state. Even in her foulest of moods, his mother had never done anything more than lock herself in her study, begging him to bed early so she could have alone time to deal. The disaster was a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, and Henry’s worry over his mother’s mental state was rapidly growing.

     Watching her pace anxiously before him, a glass of juice still dripping down the far kitchen wall, he wondered if her past self was starting to rear her head, or if his mother had been replaced by her like Jean Grey had by Phoenix. She was fidgeting, something he hadn’t seen since his first day of school, and the tension in the air radiating off her was thick enough to feel like a weight upon his shoulders.

     They had to get Emma and Snow back. His mom needed help, and only the Savior could save her.

     “I’ll kill him.” 

     The words startled him and they all turned wide-eyed toward her as she faced the counter, hands planted firmly on her hips, eyes burning with rage...and something else.

     “Killian Jones, that useless one-handed Pirate. I’ll kill him,” she elaborated, features falling into a hard mask. “He obviously deceived me when he presented my mother’s cold dead body to me.” Her tone began to rise to a shouting point as her face grew cold. “Otherwise, she’d still be in the mausoleum where I left her before I cast the dark curse bringing us all to this ungodly hell!”

     The mirrors in the hallway suddenly exploded outward in a shower of fractured glass, startling them all save for one.

     A chilling fear sweeping through him, Henry turned his gaze back towards his mother, teeth digging painfully into his bottom lip, his heart ricocheting through his chest as he saw her amber orbs swirling with unrestrained violet magic.

     This, he terrifyingly realized, was the Evil Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. And it was all going so good. Damn you Cora.
> 
> Poor Henry. And poor Regina. I know seeing his mother falling apart is traumatizing, but let's face it, Regina was hardly stable to begin with and her mother--even the notion of her mother returning--would easily spiral her down into full blown menacing hysteria. The Evil Queen is a shield, we all know this, she's a persona that steps up when Regina can't handle the reality presented to her. So she's going to have to make a choice. Either she can go cray cray, letting the Queen out to play, and push Henry away thinking she's sparing him. Or she can realize she can't let fear make her its bitch, get some semblance of control over herself, and embrace the feral Evil Queen to protect that which she loves the most with the best weapon she has at hand . Not just for Henry, but for her own safety (and sanity) as well.
> 
> Yes, I did limit the 'town line' because I think Regina is fond of loopholes, (like Rumpel) and knows how vital they are where knowledge truly is power.


	24. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I wanted to get this out. It's disturbing and emotional. You're gonna love it. (I hope)

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     “What the hell is she doing,” Emma hissed, watching Cora from her spot by Snow and Mulan in the tree-line. The sun was up by now, revealing the bleakness of the forest around them and the horizon in the distance.

     Peering past her, Snow followed Cora and Hook with a frown as they exited the carriage and started strolling off towards the lake.

     “I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “But we need to follow them.” Shifting into a sitting position, the dark haired woman turned to study the lone prone figure amid the three. Reaching out, gently stroking Aurora’s autumn hair--the princess’ already fair complexion rapidly growing pallor with each passing hour--she stated the obvious. “We’re running out of time.”

     Emma nodded.

     “What’s the game plan?”

     “I’m going to distract Cora,” Mulan finally spoke up, quickly gathering to her feet, shoulders set in determination. “Draw her and the harpies out away from the lake, if I have to.” Turning to Emma, she pulled her sword from its sheath. “You and Snow get the ashes from the wardrobe and fill my bottle with water.” Reaching for the sturdy leather wrapped canteen, she handed it to her. “Then you meet me back here.” Anxious fingers flexed around the handle of the magical blade. “Deal?”

     Mother and daughter glanced at one another.

     Would it work? Could they take Hook on by themselves?

     “Deal.”

 

*****

 

     Cora approached the lake, disgust flickering across her features as she eyed the ghastly birds picking about. They were ugly creatures, but formidable predators. Had she not needed what Nostos offered, she would have let them be, perhaps even charm a few to call upon at another time. But one had to let opportunities pass by, sometimes, in the long run of much richer potentials.

     “Do you plan to simply walk among them,” Hook asked in a wary murmur, trying to limit the attention already being drawn their way.

     “Yes,” Cora replied, the corner of her mouth pulling slightly into a grin.

     The Pirate stopped in his tracks, pulling his lower lip between his teeth in contemplation as the Queen continued a few steps ahead of him. He knew the woman was mad, had spent more time than he ever wanted in her company to be well aware how deficient she was in her faculties.

     But this...

     This was bloody suicide.

     Stopping herself a few paces ahead, sensing his conflict, Cora huffed and turned sideways to eye him impatiently. “If you are unwilling to join me, Killian, the carriage is right behind you.”

     There was no time to be doubtful.

     Ire inflamed him, her words echoing along his backbone like Emma Swan’s had a day prior atop that damnable beanstalk.

     Why did these women have to constantly challenged him?

     Taking a few long strides to close the gap between them, he sneered at her knowing smirk and eyed the harpies starting to fuss at their proximity.

     “Just tell me the game plan, your Majesty,” he snapped, drawing his sword from its scabbard, a few of the harpies beginning to rise to their feet. “Before these monstrosities pounce.”   

     Turning to face the pack, Cora eyed the numerous skeletal remains around them and raised her right hand.

     “Have you ever heard the tale of the golden fleece,” she asked, magic starting to weave around her fingers, her mind focused on the scattered teeth marked mandibles, femurs, ulna and vertebrates. 

     “Aye.” Killian’s hackles raised as the harpy who had been trailing them from above called out suddenly, the screech sharp on his ears.

     The chatter of its kin began to increase, blood-lust flickering in solid black eyes, long tongues sliding out across sharp teeth.

     “I’m fresh out of Hydra teeth,” Cora explained, her fingers twisting and flexing as her magic moved out like a serpent from them and quickly began coiling around ribs, fingers, fractured skulls and tibia. “But where there is a will,” she gleamed, the bones shifting, dancing up unexpectedly across the sands, pulling towards one another. “There is a way.”

     Blue eyes watched in morbid fascination as broken remains rapidly formed--one, then two, then three and four in quick succession--into fully animated skeletons. Rusted armor, swords, and shields--digging themselves out of packed granules, their dented and scarred material clanging in the growing cacophony--soon joined the foray, and in mere seconds the unholy act was complete.

     A chill ran through Hook’s own bones at the sight.

     But the odds were now even.

     Distressed by the threatening magic conjuring around them, the harpies snapped their teeth together, feathers raising, wings spreading out, the pitch in their tones painfully rising. One, closest to a newly spawned warrior, leaped to kick at it with its sharp talons, but quickly cried out in pain as the grinning corpse--in a wild hiss of rage--swung out and struck the beast with a jagged edge sword, severing two of its toes.

     Cora preened at the display.

     “Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrook - Present_ **

 

     Regina was boiling on the inside.

     Her emotions, bouncing all over the place from, hope, to fear, to anger and heartache, swelled and pitched like a rolling storm--her built up magic feeding off it and lashing out. She wanted to destroy something. To smash and tear down everything around her and set it aflame. She wanted the world to burn.

     She wanted it to hurt.

     She wanted it to--

     “Regina!”

     The firm shake on her bicep snapped her from her haze and she snarled at the violent intrusion, raising a hand to lash out as she was spun around until her eyes met intensely demanding blue.

_      David. _

     Gasp.

_      Henry! _

     Like a bucket of ice water flushing through her veins, Regina felt a shudder rip through her and she quickly stumbled back, her lower spine hitting a hard surface. She jumped, startled by its presence. Unsteady hands reaching out, she turned around, letting her trembling fingers rest upon the counter while her scattered thoughts tried to collect them self.

     Her throat flexed convulsively and her watery eyes darted towards conflicted amber on her right, before shifting hesitantly...to the hazel pair across from her.

     “Henry,” she choked out on a whisper, fear so easily recognizable in the gaze staring back at her. 

_      Oh Gods, what had she done? _

     “Henry,” she tried again, uncaring as a few tears trickled free to trail down her pallor cheeks. “I-I’m so sorry,” she stuttered. “I’m so sorry.” Panic was beginning to set in now.

     She had screwed up.

     Royally so.

     She reached for him, leaning across the counter, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, screaming mentally not dig in, not to hurt him, just to hold him in her grip as she tried to explain.

     “I didn’t mean to lose control, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She was trying not to openly sob, but fear was swimming inside her. “My mother she---” her voice fell short. She shook her head.

     Was this something she really could explain to him? Should reveal to him? She was  _ his _ mother. He was _ her _ son. Her job was to _ protect _ him!

     Caught up in her thoughts once more, the tempered squall rapidly rising once more, she was startled for a second time as strong fingers gripped her forearm. She snapped her gaze towards them, following them up to a knowing look.

_      Red. _

_      This girl. _

_      She looked at her like only someone who had suffered similarly once before could. _

     A firm squeeze--as if reading her mind--offered solidarity, and Regina took in a shuddering breath before focusing back on Henry.

     “My mother,” she began, her voice wavering but holding. “She scares me.”

     The revelation was monumental.

     It was like letting go of Daniel.

     But so much more painful.

     The biting truth of it, admitting it out loud, was twisting her insides apart.

     “She scares me more than anything else in this world, save you.”

     That admittance drew a frown.

     “I,” Henry squeaked, his little body trembling along with her. “I scare you?”

     He was obviously surprised, but she also saw unexpected hurt and her heart cracked.

     Nodding, Regina brought herself even closer to her son, unwilling to remove the barrier of the kitchen counter between them...just in case.

     Any form of rejection right now would break her.

     Permanently.

     “Losing you, Henry,” she explained, anguish at the idea alone furthering her internal demise. “Losing you is the thing I fear most. You,” she swore with every fiber of her being. “You are my everything. And I cannot lose you, no matter what.” She swallowed heavily at the lump in her throat. “Not to the Evil Queen that I once was.” A raspy breath shuddered out of her. “And not to my mother. Never to that woman.”

     The dam broke.

     Anticipating separation, preparing to pull herself away, Regina was taken aback and felt the last blow never considered take her apart as Henry pushed up from her grip and lunged forward to wrap his arms around her neck, burying himself against her.

     David and Ruby watched on painfully as the woman they once knew collapsed into ashes before them and was reborn into something else entirely in the embrace of her son.

     Henry, so adamant that Emma was the only one who could save his mom, never considered he was the hero she needed to set her free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this Cora. Sooooooo much! I mean, yeah, in the show she resurrected corpses of the people she killed to form a zombie hoard, but I wanted something more...menacing, I suppose. Plus Jason and the Argonauts is one of my favorite classic fantasy films ever and I couldn't resist all them bones just lying about doing nothing.
> 
> Oooof. Regina. My gods girl. I mean, this is how I kinda expected the scene to go down. I firmly believed being out of the Enchanted Forest for so long and having raised Henry as she had so far would fundamentally change Regina's priorities and her coping mechanisms. Plus all the therapy she's had in the past 28yrs has to have some influence. One doesn't seek therapy if they are not looking for some kind of progress in them self. But holy shit, I did not expect it to be as emotional as this. Nor for Henry to step up so soon.
> 
> But then again, he is the boy who begged Emma to not let the town people hurt her. She's still his mom. His words. No matter their strife, no matter his hurt, and anger, and fear, he has that core belief in place still. So it's not unrealistic. He's been feeling useless and left out and I think the room of fire boosted his confidence in stepping up, in finding the hero in himself.
> 
> I'm sure most people expected Regina to see charming and think, perfect target! Let's lash out at him! But again, Henry is her new priority and on an instinctual level she's created a new association with him. Until Emma returns, he's her grounder.
> 
> And Ruby...that girl has a past. Anyone who has seen season 2 knows she is indeed familiar with what Regina is going through. Not in the sense of Cora, but in the sense of choosing your own definition of family, of who you will protect at all cost, no matter the potential loss involved.


	25. Well, Shit

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     It took part of the morning, but eventually Regina and Henry managed to calm down, their hearts still tender, but the bond between them mending with each timid smile and gentle touch between them. Ruby and David, not wanting to depart--still concerned about their well being--called the Blue Fairy and Belle, deciding they needed to get a plan in motion as soon as possible to help Snow and Emma in their quest home.

     A frown, however, fell across Ruby’s face as she called the librarian for the third time--nothing but the newly recorded voicemail greeting her on the other line.

     “Still no answer,” asked David as she slammed Regina’s house phone down, a low growl rumbling out from her chest.

     Huffing, shaking herself out, unsure if her rising frustration was concern, or something else for her new friend, Ruby turned and headed back towards the kitchen.

     “Maybe she’s out,” she thought aloud, David trailing behind while they waited on the head Faerie's arrival. “It’s not like Regina and I left a note where we were going. She could be out looking for me.”

     “I highly doubt it,” chimed the other brunette in the house, looking up from a book she had pulled out of her study as the two entered the room. “The Imp was absent from his shop this morning as well. I suspect where you find one you’ll no doubt find the other.”

     The scowl on Ruby’s face deepened. 

     Watching her take a seat at the kitchen table, Regina offered her a tentative sympathetic smile. Receiving one in turn, she focused back on the book laid out before her, confirming what she had already suspected as their best solution.

     “David,” she called gently, the Shepard's attention shifting from Red to her. “Do you still have the hat?”

     “The hat,” Henry--seated across from her--echoed, a perplexed look on his face. 

     “Jefferson’s hat,” Prince Charming questioned. “Yeah, I still have it. Why?”

     “You have Jefferson’s hat,” Henry exclaimed in surprise and excitement, eyes darting from his mother to his gramps. David and Regina smiled at him, earning a chuckle from the former as he nodded his head.

     “It’s at the station, locked up in the only safe I could find.”

     Henry swung his eyes back to his mom, gaze darting from the book to her as he asked, “Can you use it? To open a portal here, I mean. Or go there?”

     Pointing at one of the pages, Regina replied, “Well it’s how your mother and Snow ended up in the Enchanted Forest in the first place. It stands to reason, if I can open a portal again, the same time they do, that we can create a bridge, so to speak, between worlds and--”

     “And bring them home,” Henry cut in, a smile spreading across his face.

     Leaning forward, gently tapping his nose, Regina matched his bright-eyed smile. “Yes, bring them home.”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Mulan lead the unit of three, moving with quick stealth through the woods, keeping the Harpy above in sight as they approached the others ahead. Time was not on their side, this she knew. The task at hand was also against them, the odds so unevenly stacked that her current plan was likely going to end fatally.

     But she had to try.

     If she could not save Aurora, or herself, then at least she could get Emma and Snow home.

     Sensing a swell of magic in the air, Mulan raised her fist to halt the two behind her and crouched just as they neared the edge of the woods.

     “What is that god awful smell?” Emma turned her face into the crook of her elbow, gasping softly into the leather of her jacket. The hairs on her arm were raising up like she was caught a static charge, and the foul stench that they had unknowingly stepped into was begging to pull at her gut, hitting her with growing waves of nausea.

_      Jesus H. Christ. What is that?! _

     “Dark Magic,” Snow replied, eyes sweeping around them. “And lots of it.”

     Trying not to gag, Emma watched as Mulan took a few deeply bent steps ahead, before coming to a stop once more. Snow, shuffling a long next, took up flank up to her right. Huffing, pulling the handkerchief she had used earlier for the wound on her hand out, Emma covered her nose and scurried over to the warriors left side, settling in to see what was going on.

     “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered darkly, eyes stinging as that horrendous stench seemed to bloom around.

     There, just meters away, were Cora and Hook--the latter striking out at each Harpy that lunged towards him, while the former stood as regal as a Queen holding court while a small minion of skeletal soldiers rushed the twisted birds trying to circle around them--hissing cries of wild delight rising in the air like some blood curdling battle cry.

     “Remember our plan,” Mulan reminded them, eyeing Snow first, then her.

     Gritting her teeth, body tensing, Emma nodded and then held her breath as the brave woman beside her dashed out into the fray.

 

*****

 

**_Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     She stared at the multitudes of herself, the fire that had been held at bay starting to build up around her again. Henry had departed hours ago, yet she remained. The hope that had blossomed in her was dwindling, being filled with rising dread that she would never find a way out of this damn place.

     “But it’s just another a realm,” she repeated to herself for the fifth time. “A place between worlds.” Eyes scanned the floor and ceiling, watching the fire crawl from the corners upward, drawing closer, its heat growing in intensity. “This can’t be all it is,” she called out, voice rising in frustration. “Just a room made of fire and glass? Was this all you could fathom to create?”

     Because nothing comes from nothing.

     Something had to be here, had to make this world come to be.

     Being greeted only by the sound of the licking flames, Aurora stamped her foot, anger churning with the rest of her emotions. The glass beneath her cracked and her heart stuttered in terror at her mistake. Moving back a few paces, she eyed the spiderweb fractures warily.

_You fool!_ _How could you just ignorantly endanger yourself?_ _As if you were not already dying!_

     But Henry had firmly believed she wasn’t dead.

     In fact, in the faintest echo of her body, she could feel the light string tethering her to her mortal coil.

     So what lay below her? Another room? The source of the fire itself?

     Chest rising and falling with trepidation, and curiosity, Aurora took a step towards the crack and raised her right foot--hesitating for a few seconds--before slamming it back down. The vine-work rippled out, cracks spreading like elongated fingers across multiple tiles of glass. The entire room rumbled and steam hissed up from the deeper grooves, forcing her to stumble back. 

     Crying out, feeling trapped and helpless, Aurora spun around wildly, each mirror around her reflecting her own tormented horror.....except one.

     Breath catching, she came to a sudden stop and stared at the twin version of herself.

     She watched as it tilted its head curiously at her, as if taking her and the room in from the other side, before meeting her gaze.

     Heart thundering, she approached the glass separating them until they were a mere breath apart. A mischievous glint registered in the other woman’s eyes and Aurora braced herself as she saw her lips part to speak.

     “Hello Briar Rose.”

     Her chin snapped up out of habit, eyes raging in defiance at the name.

     The other woman smiled, however, and the glass separating them dissipated like mist. The true princess, reflected deep down a long hallway, reached out and took her hand like she had once upon a time, and tugged her into the descending chamber.

     “Come, sister, we don’t have much time.”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “Well,” asked the Blue Fairy with barely restrained impatience, eyes darting from David, to the brunette, and back again.

     Shoulders stiff at the woman’s tone and overall presence, Regina made sure to catch the woman’s gaze and hold it as she reached into the bag she had been carrying earlier that morning and pulled out the wrapped bundle stored within. She wanted the blue gnat to never forget this moment, to be reminded each time they crossed paths in the near future.

     Laying the cloth between them on her kitchen counter, she watched as the petite nun glared at the damp parcel before reaching out and unfolding it.

     She could practically see the moment it registered in the irritating bug’s mind what she had just been given. She swore her pupils dilated like a starving addict finding a fresh stash.

     “The wands, you found them!”

     The Blue bitch turned towards David unexpectedly and smiled, hands clamping nauseatingly together in delight. “Thank you, your Majesty, for returning them.”

     A very unfriendly smile broke across Regina’s face as David cleared his throat, hand going to the back of his neck uncomfortably, and replied, “Regina and Ruby found them, actually. But you’re welcome.”

     The look she received from the false nun in that moment warmed her to her dark, dark soul.

     “I hope this is the last time I ever have to return them,” she added, unable to resist the dig. 

     A sound, much like a strangled curse slipping past the Faerie's lips, was her only reply.

     Regina felt another twinge flame within her.

     Turning back to David, the fairy pressed on. “Nonetheless, we now have the means to get Snow,” she stressed the name, a side-eye being tossed her way. “And Emma home.”

     Regina had to pull her lip between her teeth to resist sneering.

     Henry’s hand on her own reminded her why the Dolores Umbridge wannabe was in her home in the first place.

     “Actually, my mom has that covered,” he piped up, drawing everyone’s attention.

     Regina met Blue’s eyes in a deadly warning.

_      Don’t even think about sniping at my son. _

     “We just need you and the other fairies to be prepared, in case they aren’t the only ones who try to come through Jefferson’s hat when we open a portal.” 

     Head tilting curiously, wariness entering her eyes, the fairy said, “I don’t understand. Who else could come through? I thought everyone was here?”

     Regina scoffed. “Really, sister. You thought I brought  _ everyone _ from the Enchanted Forest here?” She waved her hand around in irritation. “If that had been the case, Storybrooke would be a bustling metropolis, not a one light seaside tourist trap.”

     “Then who did you leave behind, your Majesty,” the gnat snapped, eyes judging like always. “Who was unworthy enough to be left out of your dark curse.”

     “My mother,” she grit back.

     The color draining from the nun’s face held no delight for her.

 

*****

 

     When the bell above the door to Granny’s diner rang, Ruby felt relief wash through her at the sight of Belle sitting in one of the booths. Hearing a noise from the kitchen, she turned and caught sight of her Grandmother, giving her a warm smile and a nod that said,  _ ‘I’m good, we’ll talk in a few’ _ before focusing back on the librarian popping a fry into her smiling mouth.

     It didn’t even register to her that the other woman wasn’t alone until she reached the table and noticed Rumpelstiltskin seated on the other side. Her back stiffened at his presence, but Belle’s excited chirp drew her to the woman and she smiled once more as she was swept up in deceptively strong arms.

     “Red, you’re back,” squealed the fair princess, Ruby chuckling into her hair, giving her a tight squeeze in return before stepping out of the embrace.

     “And you look,” Belle’s eyes raked over her, making her skin tingle. “The same?”

     The questioning tone and gaze had her shaking her head.

_      Oh Belle. _

     “Yeah, the same. It’s a good thing,” she assured her friend. “Promise.”

     “Nice to see things worked out for you, Miss Lucas,” cut in Rumpel from his spot in the booth. “You had as all quite concerned.”

     Ruby tried not to visibly frown at his false care. 

     “Yeah, well, we have something much more important to worry about now.” Turning back to Belle, she asked softly, “Could you come back to the library with me? We’ve found a way to bring Emma and Snow home. We just need...your expertise, on the matter.”

     Conflicted gaze darting from her to Rumpel, Ruby felt tension start to thread between the three of them as Belle replied hesitantly, “Just me? Wouldn’t...Regina be better suited for this? Or the Fairies?”

     “They’re helping out too. We just have some...questions about safeguarding portals.”

     “Protection,” Rumpel spoke up, drawing their attention. “From what, exactly? And a portal to where?”

     “I think you know where,” Ruby replied back, defenses rising at his piqued interest. “And it’s a who, not a what.”

     “A who?” Belle frowned. “I don’t understand. Where exactly are Emma and Snow?”

     “In the Enchanted Forest.”

     “And they’re not alone,” Rumpel asked before Belle could.

     Ruby shook her head. “No. They’re being hunted, so we need to get them home, asap.”

     Belle’s eyes widened in alarm. “Hunted? By who?”

     Ruby’s worried gaze met hers. “By Cora, the Queen of Hearts.”

     The half finished plate of food on the table between Belle and Rumpel shattered, the diner falling silent as the thrum of magic rippled out around them. Dumbstruck by the outburst, Belle and Ruby watched as the man quickly stood and strode out the diner, their feet unable to move until he had turned the corner and vanished in a cloud of smoke.

     “Shit,” Ruby grumbled, grabbing Belle’s hand, sprinting for the door. “Come on!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit.
> 
> I can't even tell you how long it took me to piece this together. Like, cleaned the house, shaved my legs, got takeout and made a pizza all while writing this. I blame them, of course. So much to share, so much to do, as so much they kept fucking with until we were, finally, all in agreement.
> 
> Sigh.
> 
> I'm worried for Mulan. It's basically a suicide mission going after Cora and Hook like this. But we all know Aurora is running out of time. Or is it Briar Rose? Twins? Dopplegangers? Changlings? Sister from another mother? ALL OF THE ABOVE??
> 
> I guess we'll see.
> 
> Emma, Emma, Emma. I can't even imagine that smell. But if I was a child of true love, the supposed strongest magic of all, I would practically buckle at the stench of dark magic too. As well as the sensation. Good grief. Maybe she could just puke on Cora. That might make her blow a gasket in revulsion.
> 
> I still don't trust that Blue bitch and her side-eye. I hope Regina and her have it out one day.
> 
> And I totally believe Regina and Henry read Harry Potter. How could they not? I bet she has it memorized, maybe even envisioned a few Storybrooke residents as some of the more detestable characters.
> 
> Rumpel. Dude. You just....I wonder what Belle will think about that little reaction. You think she's the jealous type?


	26. Let's Dance

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

_      Cora. _

     That was a name he wished never to hear again.

     Teeth gnashing, magic racing across his skin as his emotions swelled in torrent, Rumpel transported himself from outside of Granny’s right to his shop. Moving quickly to a false picture behind his service counter, he swung it open to reveal magical safe hidden behind it.

     Accessing it, he reached in and delicately pulled out an intricate box, the ancient runes carved upon it scraping against his weathered fingers. Setting the item down gently, he concealed the safe once more then turned to the object with wary conviction.

 

*****

 

**_Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     “What are you doing here,” asked Briar Rose, following her twin down the winding hallway, eyes trailing over mirrors lining the walls around them. Some had swirling surfaces filled with hazy varying colors while others echoed their passing forms. “Why are you even here?”

     Frustration still consuming her, she stuttered stepped, yanking back on the other woman’s grip. “Aurora!”

     “I’ve been here for quite some time,” the fair princess finally replied, stopping and turning to her twin. “Ever since you fell under the sleeping curse, in fact.”

     Concern washed over her at the revelation.

     She had often wondered, in the rare aware dreams she had, what her other half was up to. If she knew what had befallen her. If she was safe herself. 

     The curse had been meant for Aurora, after all.

     “I think it’s a side effect of our bond,” explained the redhead, leading her forward once more into a room on the left that mirrored the previous. “One minute I was curled up on the cot at Mab’s, the next I was here.”

     “Th-that was twenty eight years ago,” Briar whispered, watching her sister intently. “Have you....have you been here all this time? Alone?”

     “Thirty,” Aurora corrected, moving over to one of the mirrors, gesturing for her sister to come closer. “And no, not always. Just like the young boy, Henry, appeared in the room of fire with you, others have come and gone.”

     “What is this place,” Briar asked, coming to stand beside her sister, eyes darting from the non-reflective mirror before them to Aurora and back. “Henry said it was an in between.”

     The princess nodded, laying her hand gently on the mirror. “He’s partially right. Consider this a way station.”

     “A way station to what?” Briar’s brow furrowed, doubt starting to creep in. Was the woman beside her really her sister? Or another posing as her, like it had as Philip.

     “You’ll see,” her doppelgänger replied.

     Briar watched as the empty mirror before them began to fill with smoke, much like the ones in the hallway, white billowing streaks consuming its surface before it suddenly brightened and a reflection emerged.

     She gasped in shock.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Mulan slinked her way out of the woods and towards the battling couple, eyes determined, hand on the hilt of her sword. She planned her strategy of attack on the move, gaze studying the figures in action. She had one chance at this and she had to get it right.

     Watching meters away, Snow moved into a sprinting position, readying herself to go out next. She was focused on Hook, glancing every few beats to Cora and back again, keeping it firmly to the forefront of her mind the dangers they were facing. Emma’s hand unexpectedly gripping her bicep tightly drew her back, turning her.

     “What,” she asked, concerned as conflicted hazel met her own.

     “If we’re going to do this, it has to be my way,” Emma replied, suddenly shifting their intent. Snow opened her mouth to protest but Emma squeezed her tightly, shaking her head. “No arguments,” she barked harshly. “You may have been a bandit, and even a battling princess, but what we need at the moment is a thief among diversion.” Her daughter took in a shaky breath, meeting her worry with conviction. “And I’m that thief.”

     Silence ticked by, Mulan nearing the skirmish with every passing beat.

     Biting her lip, she let out a ragged breath and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

     “Distract Hook, just like we planned,” Emma replied, gaze turning towards Cora. “And no matter what, don’t worry about me. I got this. WE,” she stressed with a more gentle--reassuring--squeeze, “got this.”

     The mother inside of Snow screamed, her heart clenching, her gut sinking. She knew her daughter, she had already experienced her recklessness before. But she could also hear what Emma was really asking of her.

_      Trust me. _

_      I got this. _

     And she nodded with reservation, pulling in a deep breath and moving back to her previous position.

     “Ok,” she replied softly. “Ok.”

     The hand squeezed one last time, and then nudged her forward.

     A second later, she was dashing towards the one handed pirate, drawing her bow and notching an arrow effortlessly.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “We’ve got a problem,” Ruby announced, bursting into the library with Belle on her heels, interrupting Regina, David, and Blue who appeared to be in the middle of a conversation.

     “What’s happened,” asked the former Mayor, brown orbs searching as they flicked from her to the troubled princess.

     “Rumpel,” Belle replied, fingers anxiously pulling at one another. “He-he just fled the diner, right after Ruby mentioned your--”

     “Dammit,” Regina swore, cutting the auburn woman off.

     David turned to her warily, Blue frowning at the information.

     “Should we be worried,” he asked, hands moving to his hips, his stance shifting from casual to alert.

     “Very,” she replied, turning away from everyone, reaching for her coat. Anger hardening the lines of her face, she questioned the waitress, “Why did you mention her? All we asked was for you to retrieve Belle, not speak. Even lassie could do such a simple task.”

     “Hey,” Red snapped back, surprised a bit at the lashing out. “I didn’t know saying her name would set him off into a magical fit! What the hell is his problem anyways?”

     “The Miller’s daughter was once a pupil of his,” Blue cut in, her knowing gaze settling on Regina. “An apt one, at that.”

     David and Ruby’s eyes grew wide.

_      Shit. _

     “He never mentioned her,” Belle said thoughtfully, irritation itching within at the reveal. “Not once, in all the years I have been with him, has Rumpel ever mentioned Cora.”

     “Do you speak of your past lovers,” asked Regina, adjusting the collar of her jacket. She raised a brow at the aghast stare Belle threw her way in response. “Well, now you know.”

     She would have felt sorry for the girl, if she didn’t think she was so misguided in her affections. 

     One should know what to expect when they lay with monsters.

     Now with Cora’s presence out there, with the mad Imp in the wind, things were about to get complicated.

     “Henry,” she called out to the back of the library, waiting impatiently for her son to make his way towards her, a number of books in hand. “Henry, I need to go out, something’s come up.”

     He frowned, laying the books on a near by table with a thump. “Why? What’s happened?”

     “Rumpel’s having a tizzy,” Regina explained, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “I’m going to check and make sure he’s not going to do anything foolish. Stay here with David, do not leave his sight. Understood?”

     Nodding, he reached up and squeezed her wrist. “Be safe.”

     Giving him a soft smile, she thumbed his cheek gently. “You too.”

     Turning and tossing the acting Sheriff a knowing glance, Regina waved her hand and suddenly she was gone, a whirl of purple sweeping her from sight.

     Sighing at her departure, David leaned on the table before him, eyes focusing on Jefferson’s hat. “We need to get this portal open. Now.”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     As her skeleton soldiers charged the defending harpies, Cora started making her way towards the sunken dried up ruin of Lake Nostos--Hook scrambling into step beside her. Though her magical energies were depleting, she raised her hand out, making a swirling motion with her finger, and focused on the center of the lake bed.

     The blood stained sand began to shift, churning slowly as winds being drawn by her from opposing directions, picked at it. Body shuddering at the exertion, Cora pushed on, raising her chin with satisfaction as her small tornado took formation, digging itself into the particles and pushing up with growing size and speed like a burrowing creature.

     “Impressive,” Hook stated, voice rising above the building sound of the sprouting storm.

     “But not enough,” an unexpected other replied, drawing their attention.

     Turning, Hook and Cora watched as one of her soldiers suddenly shuddered and exploded into dust, revealing the infuriating warrior from Chin.

     With a wicked smile, Mulan pointed her sword at them. “Let’s dance, shall we?”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Rumpel rummaged through the cabinets in his basement workshop, his frustration growing as shelf after shelf did not reveal what he was looking for. Slamming his fist down, rattling bottles on one of the wooden planks, he sneered and pivoted on his heel, eyes sweeping around him.

_      Where could they be? _

     Shuffling over to a cluttered work bench, he began to gather the other items he was in need of, but stilled in mid-motion, sensing a shift in the air.

     Tightening the grip on his cane as he recognized the magic at play, he waited until the mist behind him began to settle into place, before spinning and pushing forward, raising the rod up so it pressed tightly to a flexing neck as he pushed the solidifying body before into the opposite wall.

     “Where are they,” he growled, his nose brushing the other’s.

     A constricted chuckle reverberating between them, Rumpel pushed closer, cutting the noise off.

     “I won’t ask again, dearie.”

     Eyes twinkling at his growing distress, the Evil Queen replied, “They’re where they belong, Imp.”

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     “Foolish girl,” Cora hissed, raising her hands defensively as Mulan started circling them. 

     The three combatants ignored the departing cries of the harpies amidst the swirling chaos, the ugly beasts finally realizing it was time to fly rather than die fighting.

     “Let’s not be rash, love, you’re out numbered,” Hook reasoned with the woman, though he drew his sword up.

     “You think,” she taunted back, dark eyes darting from them to the encroaching skeletons that remained.

     “I think--” the Captain aimed to reply, but was suddenly cut off as an arrow whizzed by his face, scratching him along the cheek just below his right eye.

    Cora’s head swiveled and her eyes narrowed as she watched Snow White rapidly approach, disarming one of her minions with ease.

     “It’s time to end this,” Fa Mulan called out, drawing Cora back to her.

     “Indeed,” she snarled, gathering her magic and pushing it out like a ball of lightning.

     She regretted it instantly, however, as the female warrior skillfully swung her sword, deflecting the magic right into another skeleton, dissolving it dust.

     She had forgotten about the magic the sword wielded.

_      Damn them! _

     Hands clenching, she drew in a deep breath and swung her arm out, bowing the rotating sand nearby, forcing the Chin warrior to retreat a few paces back less she be blinded by it.

 

     Lips drawing into a sneer, Hook turned and faced the approaching Princess, waving his sword at her angrily. “You bloody women are worse than those damnable harpies!”

     “What’s the matter, Hook,” Snow jeered, kicking another skeleton, sending it flying to the sand in a tangled heap. “Don’t you like a challenge?”

     Eyes alight with ire, he charged her, a satisfying smile gracing his face as she rolled away, ditching her bow and picking up a fallen sword in the process, meeting his descending blow with an impressive block.

     “Aye, lass,” he crooned, bearing down with his weight, forcing her to to dig her knee in deeper. “I love a woman with fight in ‘er.”

     Enraged, Snow White pushed up with a growl, forcing him to stumble back. He gave her a mad chuckle, his gut warming at the worthy opponent and impending duel. “Come love, let’s see what you got!”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Fingers shaking, Rumpel pressed his body fully against hers, his eyes going black as he gathered his magic.

     “Why,” he demanded in a harsh whisper, resisting the urge to further choke her.

     “Don’t you miss our little games,” she pouted, batting her eyelashes at him, bringing her right hand up to slide her fingers down the cane until they wrapped around his left wrist. “We use to have so much fun, Rumpel.”

     “No,” he barked, pushing off her suddenly, stumbling back to gather himself.

     Regina always knew how to crawl under his skin with just a touch and she was toying with him, like she had countless times before.

     With a coy look she approached him slowly. “Come now, Rumpel, we both know that’s a lie.” She tisked, waving a finger at him, giving him a wink. “You didn’t seek those wands out just to let them collect dust.”

     “My business with them is my own,” he gritted out, planting his feet, pushing his cane out in front of him like a blockade. “You’ve put us in quite a pickle, dearie, with your silly antics. Cora’s coming and nothing you have planned will stop her.”

     Dropping her charade, Regina glared at him, fingers digging into her palms.

     “I’m not the one hoarding magical objects.” Taking a steadying breath, her eyes darted around them. “I also assumed my mother was dead.”

     Rumpel snorted. “Appears you failed in that.”

     “Indeed,” she growled.

     Silence falling between them, the air charging with an array of emotions, Regina considered her next words carefully.

     “We need to address this, together,” she reasoned, meeting her former mentor’s eyes. “Or she’ll burn this town, and all that we have worked for, to the ground.”

     Rumpel met her gaze thoughtfully, weighing his options.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

_      You can do this. _

_      It’s just like any other pick pocket. _

_      Bump and run, Emma, bump and run. _

     Sighing, the blonde watched her mother and Hook clash wildly, swords clanging along with the raging tornado while Mulan finished off the last two skeleton soldier--barred from reaching Cora by the dust devil digging deep into the lake bed.

     She was out of her element but she had told Snow the truth--out of the three of them, she was the best chance they had at getting the ashes from Cora and reaching the water her cyclon was searching for.

     Nostrils flaring at the still rank smell in the air, Emma marked her targets with a determined gaze, giving herself one more quick pep talk, and took off out of the woods, racing across the sands right towards Hook and Snow.

     It was all instinctual, her actions mimicking the scenario she had been playing over in her mind since Snow rushed the pirate. Like a trained dancer, she grabbed the unsuspecting man by the collar of his jacket while he was in mid-strike and spun him about in fluid motion, pushing him into a stumble away from her mother.

     The scene catching Cora’s attention, she lowered her shoulders and barreled forward, bracing her muscles for the impending impact. 

     Just a few more poundings beats.

     Her shoulders would spear the sorcerers in the side, sending them both flying towards the lake, giving Emma time to slip her hand into the woman’s cloak, grab the ashes, roll, and dive into the exposed sands.

     This was it She had this. She--

     The unexpected glaring pain brought her to a jolting halt like she had slammed into a brick wall.

     Lungs gasping, chest heaving, the burning sensation such a deep searing cold like she was being frozen from the inside out, Emma’s eyes bulged as she focused on Cora’s murderous face.

     “I don’t think so, Princess,” the witch gritted behind bared teeth.

     Knees shaking, Emma followed the path of Cora’s arm and felt herself go light headed as she realized it was buried to mid wrist...

     Inside her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....how are things?


	27. Heat

_ Everybody expects me to break  _

_ but I'll never break down again  _

_ Everybody expects me to give up  _

_ but you'll never see me givin' in  _

_ Everybody wants me to lose  _

_ but I'll never lose who I am  _

 

_ No I'm sorry to say  _

_ There'll be no sacrifice today..... _

 

“Sacrifice”

by Theory Of A Deadman

  
  


**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Snow turned to Emma...and froze.

     Everything around her paused in motion.

     The breath she had drawn in rattled her chest, stuttering with the crippling pain piercing through her heart.

     Her tongue grew heavy, words choking in her throat.

     A silent scream, so shattering the ground trembled, wailed inside of her.

_      No! _

_      Not Emma! Not my Emma! _

_     No! _

 

     Hook shook his head, shivering as sand trickled from his hair down his neck and under the collar of his shirt while he raised onto his knees.

_      Swan! _

     Could she not leave him be? 

     Did she fail to understand it was poor etiquette to interfere with a duel?

     He was going to teach her a lesson, or two, once he finished with her mother.

     Betraying him atop the beanstalk was bad enough.

     This had been downright unsavory.

     He was a bloody Pirate!

     No one tossed him about like a rag doll, especially no Princess!

     “Now look here,” he bellowed, lifting his head up, glaring towards the spot of red a few feet away. “You can’t just--” His words fell short, however, as the sight before him suddenly registered.

_      No. _

     He swayed, his hook trembling, while the rushing sound of the still spinning cyclone unfairly drew the always present vision of Milah to the forefront of his eyes, silhouetting her over the very still frame of Emma.

     “No,” he whispered on a wavering breath, his heart clench in dread.

_      Not again. _

 

     Mulan saw Snow go still first, then Hook, before she dragged her gaze around, the dust devil falling away to reveal a bone chilling scene. Brown orbs bulged, the grip on her sword tightening, the handle creaking under the strain as her heart sank.

_      Emma! _

_      What have you done? _

 

*****

 

**_The Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     “No! Emma, no!”

     Her voice echoed off the mirrors surrounding them, tears bursting forth, burning trails down her cheeks as a quaking hand shot to cover her mouth.

     She shook her head in disbelief, the horrific scene flickering within the mirror like some nightmare.

     “W-we have t-to do s-something,” she stuttered with a strangled voice, turning to her sister.

     The Princess squeezed her hand, rapt fascination holding her gaze to the garish display “It’s not our place.”

     “Aurora!”

     The response, and her sister’s demeanor, shocked her.

     How could she be like this?!

     “Please, we must,” she begged, trying to pull free of her twin’s grip.

     Aurora held tighter, drawing her closer. “It’s not our place,” she repeated more firmly, voice rising. “Watch,” she demanded, yanking Briar in front of her, letting her hand go to grip her arms tightly.

     “Just, watch,” she commanded, tone softening.

     Briar wept, feeling helpless and trapped, her eyes unable to look away from the red before her.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “What do you have in mind?”

     Regina sighed, relief fluttering within her.

     He was curious.

     It was a start.

     “A safe guard,” she replied, crossing her arms. “To ensure that nothing, save for Emma Swan and her mother, comes through the portal I intend to open with Jefferson’s hat. The sheep have called the Blue Fairy in,” Rumpel sneered at that, and she nodded her assent. “But I want something more than a nun with a wand.” She took a step towards him, hand rising, fingers clenching, her gaze boring into his. “I want a guarantee, an absolute, that mother will not follow them, no matter what.” She paused, eyes searching. “Can you deliver that?”

     It wasn’t a challenge.

     Not really.

     It was a test.

     A measure of loyalty.

     And a clever probing of his intent.

     Whatever he may have previously implied, the Imp had strong--very mixed--emotions where her mother was concerned, and Regina needed to know on which side of the line Rumpelstiltskin fell between the Evil Queen, and the Queen of Hearts.

     Trust, in this instant, was paramount.

     Hard, critical eyes narrowing, Rumpel raised his chin, offended on many levels by her words, but unable to resist the impulse to prove himself capable. 

     He was the Dark One, after all.

     And Cora, talented sorceress as she may be, was no match for him.

     “Tell me when and where, your Majesty, and I promise,” he bared his teeth like a rabid dog in warning, “nothing, and no one, save for the Savior and her mother, will make it here, alive.”

     Regina returned his deadly smile with one of her own. For the briefest of seconds, it felt like old times. 

     “Good,” she purred, leaning forward, drawing his gaze towards her lips. “Then I won’t have to warn you that mother’s not been traveling alone.”

     Without consent his left eyebrow rose in interest.

     Regina chuckled in delight, pulling back and turning away.

     “Yes, it seems she picked up an old friend of yours,” she started towards the stairs, her strut every bit the Queen. “One fond of leather,” she paused, her right foot on the bottom plank, glancing back at him. “And a hand shy of a full deck.”

     She was to the top of the stairs by the time the sound of glass smashing began.

     With a satisfied grin, she waved her hand and swept into the wind, set on returning to Henry as soon as possible, and bringing one blond Sheriff home.

 

*****

 

**_The Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     There were a number of instances in Emma Swan’s life where she was certain she was going to die.

     At six years old, when shitty temporary foster parent Martin caught her sneaking a snack out of the fridge. At eleven, when fifteen year old Cari swore to gut her and pulled a switchblade from her back pocket, leaping on her at the city park because she refused to fall when pushed. At fourteen, when she picked the wrong pocket at some underground club and came face to fist with a burly man tripping on pcp.

     And at twenty five, just three years ago, when sleazy no good Ricky Santori skipped town after beating his wife almost catatonic and Emma had caught up with him, unexpectedly, in an unlit alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn.

     In each moment, time had slowed and Emma had felt the cruel hand of humanity upon her in each elongated second. They had shattered bones, dug deep with whatever sharp objects they could find, and left scars upon her chest, her forehead, her ribs, and her forearms.

     They had railed against her.

     But they never, obviously, won.

     And like all those others instances, the second she drew a fighting breath, the clawing cacophony of muted sound that felt like drowning suddenly broke, and everything came rushing into brilliant awareness.

     Heart hammering, even against the fingers wrapped tightly around it, Emma stumbled on her feet and tried to hold her balance as her eyes darted wildly from Cora’s enraged face, to her wrist nestled against her chest, and back again.

_      Holy fucking shit! _

_      HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! _

     “How dare you,” Cora hissed, pulling her painfully closer, Emma biting her lip to keep from crying out, trying to gather her bearings. “I, am a Queen! Not some brute on a battlefield!”

     Wrapping her strong fingers around Cora’s wrist, digging her nails into her skin, Emma grit back, “Like hell you’re not, bitch,” while steadying her feet.

     She had no idea how to fight this, how to defeat Cora mano a mano, but she knew she had to make her break her hold.

     One way or another.

     Eyes blazing with hatred at her words, the witch’s jaw snapped open. “You ignorant little wench! Who the hell do you think you are?”

     “You’re worst fucking nightmare,” Emma spit out, blood boiling, reaching forward--even as Cora squeezed her heart in fury--and grabbing her by her cloak, yanking her close so they were practically nose to nose, loosening her searing grip just a little.

     “You cannot stop me, Princess,” the witch spat, eyes swimming with malice.

_      Jesus! Had she ever look at Regina like that? _

     “I will crush you,” Cora declared, squeezing her heart tightly once more, straining it to the point she was unable to hold in a cry of pain. “I will turn your heart to ash, leaving your corpse behind for you mother to tend to.”

     Emma shook at her words and her deadly intent, but she refused to give in to the mad woman, to back down from this battle of wills. There was too much at stake. Too many people to protect, to consider.

     Snow.

     David.

_      Henry. _

_      Regina. _

     “I’d like to see you try,” she taunted, giving the bat shit crazy sorceress one of her patented devil may care smiles. “Because if you think I’m going to let you anywhere near my son, and his mother, you can fucking think again, you lunatic! They will NEVER,” she shouted, with surging ferocity, “be yours!”

     Cora let out a cry of her own, one tinged with savagery, and curled her fingers into her harrowed organ. She yanked backward, furiously, pulling so hard Emma felt it deep in her gut.

     And then yanked again, snarling when she did nothing more than draw Emma into her.

     Hands landing on the angry woman’s biceps, Emma gripped her hard and locked her arms, forcing Cora to snap her eyes from her chest to her unhinged gaze, ceasing her tug on her heart.

     Their gazes held, determined sea storm green on frazzled molten brown, and they growled at one another, heat blooming between them. Emma’s hands shook from the burn of it. Cora gritted her teeth against growing pain, welts forming on her exposed hand and wrist.

     “There is only one way this can end,” the Queen of Hearts decreed, unwilling to give in to the creature taking form between them.

     She sensed its unexpected wrath.

     And she refused to cower.

     Had she known what the fair princess possessed, she would have reconsidered this tactic.

     It was troubling, really, to be caught so unaware.

     But _magia_  was unpredictable like that.

     Emma nodded in understanding.

     The fire, whatever it was, licking along their skin, around their bodies, was beginning to take shape, shifting into a white flickering glow.

     “Give my regards to Hades then,” she snarked, and then bowed her frame, the volatile energy reaching an overpowering crescendo.

 

     Hook, Snow, and Mulan watched--in dumbstruck dismay--as a wave of spiraling white light pulsed up, then out, from where Cora and Emma stood with an ear shattering scream, knocking them backwards, clean off their feet. 

 

*****

 

**_Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     “What...” Briar trailed off, glancing in awe--and suspense--at Aurora. “What was that?”

     “That,” her twin whispered, a twinkle of unspoken knowledge dancing in her eyes, “dear sister, was _magic_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....somethings didn't go as I expected in my previous chapter, so...here we are.
> 
> Truly, I thought Regina and Rumpel were going to have it out, as they are long overdue, but alas, they settled on teaming once more for the greater good...for now.
> 
> And Aurora...well, I don't know what to tell Briar Rose. There is so much explanation needed there. Unfortunately, it's going to have to wait.
> 
> Emma...and Cora...talk about creating some heat! Lol. Wrong Mill's woman, Emma!! But hey, it's every potential future daughter in-law's sole purpose to piss off her potential future mother in-law...right? Really, I just like the visual of one insane magic wielder facing another who may not have skill, or knowledge, or even a shred of fucking awareness that she has magic, but will fight nonetheless because, hey, someone's got to, and Emma's damn good at fighting.
> 
> That's also why I picked the song (and lyrics) quoted in the beginning. If Emma had one she probably listened to more than once, over the last almost decade, it was that one.


	28. Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two weeks are going to be pretty rough where work is concerned so I figured I'd post as much as I can to make up for any lack of opportunity come next weekend. Just in case.

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Regina stormed into town hall, the place they had agreed to gather for opening the portal, after finding the library unexpectedly bare. A growl crawling up her throat, gnawing on her tongue, she flung the doors open to reveal David, Bell, Ruby and Henry all facing the hat sat center before the empty council.

     “What the hell do you think you’re doing,” she barked, startling them as she strode into the room. “Where is Blue? I hope you don’t think you’re doing this without me.”

     Rumpel turning on her is expectable.

     But these do-gooders, she think’s not!

     “Relax, Regina,” David replied, raising his hands appeasingly. “We were just getting ready, making sure everything, and everyone, is in place.”

     Henry nodded in confirmation as Regina’s wary gaze darted from Charming to him.

     “Blue’s just getting some fairy dust from the mines,” he explained. “Did you talk to Mr. Gold?”

     Calming, Regina smiled at her son and nodded. “Yes. I convinced him to help us, just in case Blue isn’t enough...support.”

     “Really.” David crossed his arms, suspicion creeping across his face.

     But Regina met his doubtful gaze equally. “Yes, really. We have a common interest, after all.”

     “To keep Cora the hell out,” he stated, and she nodded in agreement.

     “Let’s just hope we’re successful,” he voiced, his body shifting anxiously.

     “Oh we will be,” she assured him, not with hope, but with matter of fact.

     Because if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Rumpel would go to any length necessary to keep himself, and Belle, out of the clutches of Hook and Cora.

 

     And indeed she was right, for at that very moment Rumpel was striding down into the temporarily stabilized mine shaft, catching Rhuel Gorm off guard in the lantern illuminated dark.

     “What are you doing down here,” she asked, stepping between him and the small crevice of crystals she’d been accessing just minutes prior. They had to be broken down for fairy dust, but in this solid state they were tangible items of elemental magic. A troublesome fact where the Dark One was concerned.

     “The same as you, I suppose,” he replied, pausing in his steps, meeting her hostile stance with indifference. “But unlike you and your...coven, I don’t need to destroy those,” he gestured towards the shimmering stones, “in order to use them.”

     “What need do you have of them,” she questioned, unwilling to back down.

     Her and Rumpelstiltskin had more than a few strife encounters in their shared past. He was a stain upon the magic their world possessed, an unwanted serpent that coiled and seduced with lies and manipulation. In each instant, she refused to yield to him, even when his inky, choking, dark magic threatened to strangle her.

     “As I said,” a smirk teasing across his face. “The same as you.”

     Disbelief fluttered across her face, but he merely shrugged.

     “Let’s just say her Majesty requested a...guarantee, a fail safe to whatever wards you intend on putting up once this portal she’s planning, opens.”

     “What sort of guarantee?”

     A glint, tinted with madness, flickered in his eyes.

     “The deadly kind,” he hissed.

     The standoff was silent for a few beats, each measuring the other, their conversation solely body language. It was a short lived argument.

     A pulse of magic, blasting from his hand unexpectedly like a ball of lightning, slammed Rhuel Gorm against a nearby wall, fading her world into blackness.

     Staring down at the unconscious nun, Rumpel took a deep breath and stepped gently over her sprawled legs towards the crevice in the ceiling just a few feet away. The blue and purple hues bounced off his dilated pupils, and he marveled at the magical essence breathing from the crystals.

     Releasing a sigh that such potential was going to have to be wasted in a single creation, Rumpel raised his hands, concentrated, and began pulling the magic from the powerful vessels.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Her ears were ringing, the world around her swaying though she was certain she was laying down, and her skin was tingling in a way that very much reminded her of David--just as he woke her from the sleeping curse.

_Magic._

     It was everywhere.

     Coating her skin, thickening the air, filling her senses with a warm, volatile presence. Her body was trembling, and she could feel gritty sand rubbing against her flexing fingertips.

     Where was she?

     What had she been do--

_Emma!_

     Like a spell breaking, Snow bolted upright, her head and heart pounding at the sudden action. Large eyes swinging about as she whipped her head around, she clutched at her chest when they settled on a bleary blond and red figure rolling on the sand just meters ahead.

     “Emma,” she cried out in a mix of relief and concern.

     Scrambling onto unsteady feet, she stumbled towards her daughter, unwilling to let her wobbly knees collapse beneath her until she reached Emma’s side.

     Turning the disoriented woman towards her, she sobbed at the sight of eyes, so much like her own, meeting her gaze.

     “I think I drank too much,” the blond rasped upon recognizing her, and Snow let out a wet chuckle, having heard the young Sheriff utter those words more than once over the past few months.

     Then she smacked her in the shoulder.

     Hard.

     “What the hell were you thinking,” she practically shrieked, ignoring Emma’s whine of _ow_ and grabbing her by the lapels of her jacket, hauling her into an upright position. “She had her hand in your chest! IN YOUR CHEST, EMMA!!”

     Snow wasn’t known for falling into hysteria.

     She had faced down many monsters and impossible situations, including Regina, but this--Emma falling into the clutches of Cora--had her on the breaking point.

     “I know, I felt it” Emma huffed, running her very sensitive fingers through her hair. She hissed at how tender they felt and brought her right hand down to eye curiously. That white light from moments prior was still dancing around them, kind of like a muted flame on a candle.

 _What is this,_ she wondered.

     Emma’s behavior drew Snow’s attention from her face to her hand, and she gaped in astonishment at what she was seeing. _Was that...could it be...how...._

     “Emma,” she whispered, fingers raising hesitantly to touch her daughter’s hand.

     Emma hummed in question, her attention rapt to her fingers.

     “Emma,” she tried said again, a torrent of emotions exploding inside of her. “Y-you...you have magic...?”

     To Snow, that’s what she just queried.

     But to Emma’s ears, it sounded an awful lot like _‘You’re a wizard, Harry!’_ and her breath caught, her eyes blowing comically wide.

     “No fucking way!”

 

*****

 

**_The Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     “She has magic,” Briar stated, relief filling her, a smile tugging across her lips.

     Aurora nodded, her eyes still shining. “Light magic,” she revealed to her sister. “The most powerful kind of all.”

      _Then they could get home_ , Briar thought. _They can return to Henry._

     “I need to get back,” she said, turning from the mirror. “I need to tell them to open the portal as soon as possible, that Storybrooke is looking for them, that Henry is looking for them.”

     “He was wrong,” Aurora said softly, stepping in front of her with a sympathetic look.

     “What?”

     “You are right. You’re dying.”

     A lump raised in Briar’s throat.

_But..._

     “S-Snow said the lake, it’s magical. The water from it, it could revive me, right?”

     Aurora reached out, taking her hand like before, and squeezed it. “Lake Nostos returns things to what they once were.”

     Briar’s heart sank.

     “I would....” She let her question drift off, but Aurora hear the unspoken words nonetheless, and nodded.

     Taking in a deep breath, her heart thrumming with pain, Briar turned back to the mirror.

     “I need to speak to Mulan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumpel seems to be losing his fucking mind, though, I guess, your ex-lover shacking up with the man who stole your ex-wife and threatening to come to town can do that to ya.
> 
> I like this Snow, a lot. Though I think she's got a hitting problem...
> 
> Emma, lol. I think a lot of her mental references are linked to books and tv shows because that's probably all she had access to as a kid, though likely more so as an adult, to understand situations.
> 
> Sigh. Dammit, Briar. Hopefully, Mulan has a solution.


	29. The Briar and the Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Yay no more super-ass long work weeks! Seriously, one day off in a 9 day stretch pulling 10 shifts is just brutal.
> 
> On with the story!

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     While Ruby and Belle fidgeted--and David paced, Regina stood facing Jefferson’s hat with Henry by her side, eyeing it critically. The broken top hat with its aged mulberry colored core sat in the center of the floor, just as it had days before.

     She honestly had no idea if it would even work, not after David had crushed it with his brute form diving after Snow and Emma.

     But it still possessed magic.

    She could feel it permeating the air like humidity on a warm summer day--damp, sticky, and clawing.

     If Henry was right, if Emma and Snow were trying to transverse a portal, then all Regina really needed to do was use the last dredge of magic within the hat to bridge them to this realm.

     To bring them home.

     Subconsciously Regina rubbed at her upper right arm, Emma’s phantom touch tingling along her skin once again.

     They had made magic.

     Together.

     Without any conscious decision or pre measure.

     That kind of natural bonding was practically unheard of outside of the familial sense.

     A chill crawled across her spine and Regina resisted the urge to visibly shiver.

     Everything about that day had started replaying in her mind on loop the moment she stepped into town hall. The smell of the burning brooms, the pain of the mark on her palm, Emma’s voice--her hands--pushing her out of the path of the Wraith.

     The second the hat took off spinning time slowed around her. She could vividly recall the way Emma had stared at her hand, could feel her stomach fluttering with shockwaves, remembered the exact instance she felt an unwilling shift in their dynamic.....and then Emma was gone.

     Feeling small fingers sliding over her own, Regina jumped, being drawn sharply from the memories to the present.

     Looking down, she caught Henry’s eyes as her gave her a reassuring smile.

     “You can do this, mom.” His tone was soft, but matter of fact. “You can bring them home.”

     Tears flooding the back of her eyes as emotions swelled, Regina blinked them away--pulling in a reaffirming breath--and squeezed Henry’s hand in response.

_      Yes, she could. She would. For him. _

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     Mulan groaned as she gathered herself, pushing strands of hair that had come free from their binding out of her face.

_      What had happened? _

     Eyes slowly taking in her surroundings, she tensed when she spotted Hook on his back meters away, but relaxed slightly when the man’s body remained motionless for a few beats. Hearing voices over the fading ringing in her ears, Mulan turned her head towards blurry shapes of red and pink.

     “Emma,” she called out hoarsely, staggering to her feet.

     The voices stopped as she rubbed sand from her eyes, and once her vision cleared, she was able to make out Emma and Snow White staring at her with startled expressions.

     Wary, her gaze darted to the crumpled form just a few feet from them and her breath caught.

_      Cora. _

     Cora had her hand in Emma’s chest.

     Weak legs carrying her forward, Mulan stumbled over to the pair--hand on the hilt of her sword--and collapsed into a defensive kneeling position between them and the sorceress.

     “Emma,” she asked again, unwilling to draw her gaze from the vile woman.

     “I’m good,” the blond croaked, her own hazel eyes finally falling on the older woman near by.

     Relief sweeping through her, Mulan drew a calming breath in, then turned her attention towards mother and daughter.

     “What happened?”

     Snow cleared her throat, rubbing her hand along Emma’s left arm before replying hesitantly, “Magic. E-Emma used magic.”

     Mulan frowned. “How?”

     The pair shrugged, unable to form an answer.

_      Well.  _

     Shifting her attention back to Cora, Mulan eyed her thoughtfully. “We could end this now. Make sure she never has the opportunity to hurt anyone, ever again.”

     Snow followed her gaze, the same thought circling in her mind.

     But Emma’s words broke through their pondering.

     “No,” she said softly, a frown drawing her brow down. “We’re not her, not them.”

     Mulan and Snow nodded slowly. The decision was unfavorable, but respectable.

     “Let’s get what we came here for,” Snow said, slowly getting back onto her feet, dusting her pants off. “Aurora needs us,” she glanced at Mulan, “And it’s time we go home,” she finished, helping Emma get to her own feet.

     Heart squeezing at the mention of the princess, Mulan gathered herself and pushed off towards Cora, using the tip of her sword to find the wardrobe ashes nestled within her cloak. Flicking it into the sand for Snow to grab, she gave the wicked unconscious woman one last glare before turning towards the hole the sand storm had dug into the barren lake Nostos.

     Pulse thumping, Mulan marched to the edge, holding a breath as hope swelled her chest cavity. Eyes roaming the newly formed trench, she searched for the one thing that would resolve the hell this past week had been. Damp packed sand crystals glittering in the sun, Mulan felt her knees start to tremble in a mix of defeat and anger, before she suddenly spotted the small pooling of water in the very center of the trench.

     A smile as bright as the light streaming from above blossomed across her face.

_      They had won. _

_      They had won! _

     Feeling a hand fall to her shoulder, Mulan turned to see relief and hope shining in matching hazel eyes. The three of them shared in the moment of success, gazing intently on the tiny, but mighty, reflective pool.

     “I always wanted to save a real princess,” Emma joked, and Snow let loose a wet chuckle, Mulan glaring at her though her smile never wavered.

_      Yes. It was time to save their princess. _

  
  


*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Turning as the doors to the council room opened, the group was surprised to see Rumpel, and only Rumpel, walk through.

     “Where’s Blue,” David asked with a frown, eyeing the Imp with reservation.

     “Detained,” the man replied, moving right past him to the center where Regina and Henry stood. “Her fairy dust didn’t go according to plan. It’s best we not wait for her.”

     Warning bells going off in his head, his distrusting gaze darted from Rumpel’s back to Regina. She caught his look, but only gave him a blank stare in return.

     Something wasn’t right.

     Returning her attention to her former mentor, Regina kept her expression neutral, waiting to see what Rumpel had brought her.

     Reaching into his suit jacket, the man pulled out a small vial filled with a green liquid and held it out to her.

      “One precaution, as requested,” he said, a pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Pour that onto the hat before enacting the portal and no one but our dear Savior and her lost mother will pass through it once your theoretical bridge is formed.”

     Satisfied, Regina gave the man a delightful smile of her own and turned to the hat, Henry in tow.

     “Wait, what is that,” asked David, coming through the waist high partition that separated the attending area from the council. “What exactly will it do?”

     “It’s a barrier spell,” Regina replied, turning to face David as she knelt over the hat. “One that will guarantee that my mother and Hook will not follow Emma and Snow through.”

     Reaching the former Queen, David knelt beside her and gripped her wrist as she pulled the cork from the bottle. “Are you sure,” he asked in a whispered hiss. “You told me before not to trust him.”

     Frowning at his words, Regina hissed back, “He despises my mother, David. If there is one thing I am certain of, it is that.”

     Catching Rumpel lurking behind them, giving him a guarded unfriendly stare, David leaned even closer until they were sharing the same air. “What if he despises you more? What if this is his way of taking you out for good while bringing Snow and Emma back?”

_      Oh. _

_      Well. _

_      That was a given possibility. _

     Glancing at Henry, sweeping her gaze over him, memorizing every inch of him in that moment, she took in a steadying breath and replied, “Then you take Henry, and your family, and you run like hell, Charming, never--EVER--looking back.”

     Blue orbs meeting Brown, understanding shifted them apart, and Regina poured the potion onto the hat, watching intently as it shimmered green before returning to it’s prior fragile state.

     Putting the cork back in place, Regina let David ease her back onto her feet with a firm hand on her elbow. Hat in her left, she tossed the vial in her right to Belle who was eyeing Rumpel with a mix of concern and hope, and then gripped the magical item tightly.

     “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we,” she said, giving Henry a mischievous smile that he matched with rising excitement.

     Back straightening like the Queen she still felt she was, Regina shot Rumpel a thoughtful glance, before taking a deep breath in, focusing her magic, and tossing the hat with a twist of her wrist out onto the floor before them.

     Crackling purpled boomed around them...and then the hat began to spin.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     “That should do it,” remarked Mulan as she finished filling her leather flask with a cup of water, eyeing the small pool intently. She didn’t want to take too much, for all they knew this was all the water that was left of Nostos.

     “Thank you, Mulan,” said Emma as she helped the warrior out of the trench. “For everything.”

     Nodding, Mulan gripped Emma’s forearm tightly. “You’re welcome.”

     “Are you sure it will work,” asked Snow, concerned eyes darting from Mulan to the small pool.

     “Yes,” she replied, hope and belief fueling her words.

     Giving the woman a compassionate smile, Snow was about to wish her the best when an unexpected voice caught their ears.

     “Mulan? Mulan!”

     Frowning, the three woman looked around, the faint voice echoing from an unknown location.

     “Aurora,” Mulan called out curiously as the voice said her name again.

     “Mulan! Over here, Mulan!”

     Following the sound, she spun on her feet in a semicircle near the remains of one of the skeletons, before she heard auburn haired woman’s voice once more, and glanced down.

     “Aurora,” she gasped, spotting the fair princess in the partial reflective surface of a broken shield.

     “Woah,” a surprised Emma whispered as she came up behind her.

     “Aurora,” Snow questioned cautiously as she joined the pair. “How are you using that shield like a mirror?”

     The three watched as the other woman took a deep breath and stepped back slightly to suddenly reveal another  _ her _ standing beside her.

     Eyebrows shot up in shock as they muttered in unison--

     “What--”

     “The--”

     “Hell?!”

 

*****

 

**_The Room of Fire - Present_ **

 

     “Not hell,” Briar replied, glancing at her sister for confirmation. “But close.”

     Snow’s look of comprehension was faint, but her words echoed strong through the mirror before her.

_       “You’re back in the room of fire.” _

      Briar nodded.

      “It’s not a dreamscape like we thought,” she explained to the other princess. “It’s another realm, a...way station, between the living and the--” she glanced at Aurora, taking in a shaky breath, “and the non.”

_      “Aurora,” _ Mulan’s voice crept across her with fear and distrust.  _ “How are you there? Who is the other woman with you?” _

     Briar sighed.

     This part was not going to be easy.

      Pulling her sister even closer, their arms looped around one another, she replied hesitantly. “This...this is the real Princess Aurora. And I think we all know why I’m here.”

      Snow gasped, Emma and Mulan turning their expressions of disbelief towards her.

_      “You’re Briar Rose,”  _ whispered the dark haired woman.  _ “The rumors were true.” _

     Feeling her sister nod in response, she allowed her to step forward to address the trio.

     “Yes. What you’ve no doubt heard is true.” Meeting her gaze, Aurora continued. It was time, after all, to reveal their tale.

     “Not long after I was born I was kidnapped by a disgruntled fairy, and no, it wasn’t Maleficent, it was someone else. During her escape, she unfortunately dropped me in a shrub of roses deep in the Enchanted Forest near the Forbidden Mountain.” Their eyes knowingly met once more. “Briar Roses, to be exact. Unable to retrieve me, the fairy abandoned me, where I lay until someone else came along.”

_      “Mab,”  _ Snow guessed, and the duo nodded.

     “Yes, midwife Mab, as most know of her,” Aurora revealed. “But that’s now who she really is. Her true identity is a secret, for necessary reasons, one which I will not reveal.”

     “But Mab is mother to us,” Briar spoke up, taking over the unfolding of their story. “When Aurora lay unclaimed among the Briar Roses, she caught the attention of another, a sapling Mab had planted among the shrub.”

_      “A changeling,” _ Mulan whispered, her vibrant eyes flickering between her and her sister.

     Briar nodded.

     “Yes. Me, a changeling.”

_       “So you’re like Pinocchio,” _ Emma spoke up, eyes squinted slightly as she tried to make sense of their history.

     Her and Aurora nodded in unison.

_      “Which means the water from lake Nostos will not heal you back to human,” _ Mulan finally realized, shoulders sagging in awareness.  _ “It’ll turn you back into a changeling. Back into the rose you are.” _

     Tears pricked at Briar’s eyes.

     It was a painful truth she often tried to ignore.

     She wasn’t human, never had been, and never really would be.

     “I’m so sorry,” she choked out, her gaze imploring Mulan to understand why she didn’t tell her who she was until now. “We never expected to get caught, for our secret to be revealed. We’ve been sisters since the beginning, sharing the same life, the same name, switching places when one wanted to be where the other was, without anyone ever knowing.”

_      “Except for Mab,” _ Snow guessed.

     Aurora nodded. “Except for her. When Maleficent accidentally put Briar under the spell, instead of me, Mab was the one to wrap our castle in protection so she would remain untouched until Philip could wake her.”

_      “So Philip is Briar’s true love,” _ Mulan hedge, her intense gaze turning thoughtful as it darted between them.

     “No,” Aurora replied. “He’s mine. But as we are, in a sense, one in the same, we share a love for him. But...where mine is romantic, theirs is familial.”

_      “Is he there, with you?” _

     Briar hadn’t thought to ask that before. Turning to her sister, she wondered now, was he?

     Eyes shining, Aurora smiled and nodded. “Yes. Not here, in this room exactly, but in this realm.”

     It was visible that a weight had been lifted from Mulan’s shoulder at that response.

     A lot has transpired over the last few days, and this was just one more piece of their shared lives to take in.

     The group remained quiet for a few beats, all of them lost in their own thoughts, until Fa squared her shoulders and met their mutual gazes.

_      “Then how do I get there,” _ she asked, determination setting into her frame.  _ “How do I bring the three of you back.” _

     Aurora looked to Briar, then to Mulan.

_      How exactly could she? _

_      Was it even possible? _

     “Mab,” Briar spoke up, meeting Mulan’s eyes intently. “If anyone knows how to reach us, it will be her.”

     The warrior from Chin nodded.

_      “Then that is where I will go.”  _ She glanced at Snow and Emma.  _ “After I have seen these two off, I will go to the base of the Forbidden Mountain. I will find Mab...and I will bring you all home.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get closure on Briar and Aurora's story! Whew! It was a long time coming, and I'm glad it sets Mulan off on her own quest as well, so I can bring them all closure later on.
> 
> Can you guess who midwife Mab is? If not, you will eventually ;).
> 
> Now, all we gotta do is bring Emma and Snow home, though I have concerns about Rumpel and the consequences of trusting him. I dislike that David is letting Regina take this risk, but I understand it, just as they do. Hopefully though, we get a move on things because I don't think Hook and Cora are going to be out cold for much longer.


	30. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday folks! A long awaited chapter has arrived :). I apologize in advance if anything is off, some bug slapped me across the face earlier this week and my brain is addled with medicine and phlegm.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> On with the story!

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     The swirl of the purple with green lightning held steady in front of them, spinning away each passing minute. The steady hum of turbulent magic was invigorating, reminding Regina of the countless times she had traveled by portal. The universe held so many realms, multitudes of kingdoms and people, infinite possibilities for her to explore.

     If only she hadn’t been consumed by grief, and regret.

_      ‘My dear, please, you don’t have to do this. We can have a new life. We can find happiness...together.’ _

     The words of her father echoed in her mind and she flinched at the memory--fingers curling into her palm, nails biting sharply into tender flesh to shake it all away.

_      What a waste _ , she thought bitterly as the vortex rushed around.

     Turning a thoughtful gaze to the young boy who had stolen her heart, she watched with swelling affection as he studied the portal with rapt fascination.

_      Oh the wonders I could show him. _

     “Is it suppose to take this long?”

      David’s voice from behind drew her away from Henry, and she glanced curiously at the Prince. “I mean, how much magic is left in that hat? Could it close before Emma and Snow can cross over?”

     Regina pondered his concern.

     “There is that risk, yes,” she reasoned, turning her attention back to the portal. Taking a deep breath, she added hesitantly, “I suppose, Shepherd, this is where you’re to have hope.”

     Because, no matter how much Regina hated to see it--and admit it--Snow and Charming always held the belief they could find one another.

     And for Henry’s sake, she had to have faith that it was true.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest - Present_ **

 

     “I guess it’s time,” said Snow as she eyed the vial in her hand and the small puddle of water in the trench below. She looked up to catch Emma watching her warily, bottom lip drawn in between her teeth, eyes scrunched in nervous energy. She gave her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her concern.

     “Thank you, both of you.” Mulan stepped forward, shaking Emma’s forearm once more, and Snow’s for the first time. “Things may have gone off course for awhile, but without your assistance, I would never be able to have the chance to bring back those I have lost.”

     “You’ll succeed, I have no doubt,” Emma replied, giving the warrior a fond smile. She had always liked the movie Mulan, but the real life version was far more awesome in her mind.

     The dark haired woman blushed under the praise, but held her head high in determination.

     “As will you,” she affirmed. Stepping back, she nodded towards the vial. “Good luck. May your journey be smooth.”

     Giving Mulan a respective nod of her own, Snow took a deep breath, opened the vial, and slowly dropped the ashes of the wardrobe into the remaining water of Lake Nostos.

     It glowed for a second, illuminating a rich purple, then went still...before suddenly erupting upward into a swirling lilac colored vortex. Eyeing one another with mixed emotions, mother and daughter gave Mulan a parting smile, before Emma reached into her pocket and removed the compass.

     “Ready,” Snow asked.

     Emma nodded, taking in an unsteady breath.

     “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

     Linking their fingers, they waited for the portal to stabilize, then took a step forward.

     “Think of Storybrooke, Emma,” Snow whispered, tears shining in her eyes. “Think of Henry. Think of....home.”

     And she did, as they leaped forward--eyes screwed shut--she thought of every moment spent these past few months with her beautiful charming son.

_      Hold on, Henry. We’re coming home. _

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     They had just surpassed the five minute mark when the portal unexpectedly changed color, the green lightning flickering through it rippling out, consuming the purple. Sensing the shift in magic, Regina turned concerned eyes towards Rumpel. His lips drew thin in response.

     “Why did it do that,” asked Henry, taking a step closer towards her.

     “Because someone with magic is trying to come through,” replied Rumpel, taking a few steps forward to stand beside mother and son.

     “Someone like Cora,” the boy guessed with trepidation.

     The Imp nodded. Regina felt a chill run through her.

     “What kind of barrier spell is this,” she asked as the vortex suddenly--violently--flared, forcing them to take a few steps back.

     “It’s not a spell, it’s a curse,” shouted a distressed voice from behind them.

     Turning, the onlookers watched as the Blue fairy strode into the room--Grumpy hot on her heels--glaring at the trio gathered to the forefront.

     “A curse?” Regina turned to Rumpel and glared. “I asked for a barrier spell.”

     “You asked for a permanent solution,” he countered. “There is nothing more indefinite than a death curse.”

     Regina’s eyes widened in surprise, catching the blazing eyes of Blue before flickering to the now unstable hungry looking portal.

     “He used all of the crystals, not a single one was left,” the fairy revealed, running a shaky hand over her hair. “After, he of course, attacked me.”

     “Rumpel!” Belle’s face reflected hurt and outrage, troubled--yet not surprised--by the man’s actions.

     “I did what was right,” he defended with rising voice. “Can’t you see? Cora is dangerous, far more so than Regina or myself. We cannot, under any circumstances, allow her to enter this realm!”

     Something was picking at Regina’s thoughts, making her heart race. A small detail she had missed, a flaw that had just been revealed by Rumpel’s words.

     It had to do with magic.

     About thoughts she had earlier.

     Her breath hitched as it hit her.

_      Emma! _

     Eyes seeking David’s out in alarm, she shifted quickly to Rumpel, taking a panic step forward.

     “You set the curse to attack any magic user who travels the portal,” she asked for clarity as David and Blue circled Rumpel on the other side, trapping the Imp between them.

     The irritated man nodded.

     “To guarantee it would attack her and her alone.”

     “You idiot,” she shouted, shoving the surprised man back, sending him stumbling into the Sheriff.

     “Mom?”

     She could hear the worry in Henry’s voice, but the dots connecting in her mind were consuming her with rising fear. She was going to fail him. On the one thing she could do right, the one thing that had the potential to redeem her in his eyes, and it was all going to hell.

     “Regina,” David called to her, matching worry creasing his face.

     “Emma has magic,” she revealed, trying to keep her growing hysteria under control. “Natural, elemental magic. I never opened the first portal. It was all her!”

     In the chaotic clamor of the vortex, their collective hearts stilled.

 

     “Undo it,” David growled at the man in his grip, digging his fingers in as his heart pumped with trepidation. “Remove the curse!”

     But Rumpel just shook his head in defeat.

     “I can’t. Once it’s been cast, it must be fulfilled or collapse incomplete with the portal.” His eyes swept the room, pleading for understanding. “I didn’t know! I had no reason to assume she had awaked any potential magic. I’m sorry!”

     All eyes darted from him to Regina.

     Curses, after all, are a specialty of hers.

     She felt the weight of responsibility settle on her frame.

     Yes. She knew about curses, especially their parameters.

_      So this is it. _

_      Funny. _

     She always expected it would be much more...climactic.

     Turning to Henry, his eyes flooded with fear, she knelt down and drew the boy close, cupping his face with as much love and tenderness as she had in her, letting all her walls fall away--letting the world and the people surrounding them dissipate--until mother and son were in their own little bubble.

     “I love you Henry,” she whispered softly, a gentle smile blooming across her features without reserve. “And don’t you worry,” she stated with motherly warmth. “Emma and Snow WILL be coming home. I promise.”

     She gave him the most reverent kiss she had ever laid on some one, lips sealed to his forehead, before standing and gently pushing him back until David could grip him. She shared a knowing look with the Shepherd turned Prince, then squared her shoulders and faced the portal.

     “Regina,” Ruby called out in concern, obviously sensing her intentions and daring enough to voice her dismay. “What are you doing?”

     “What needs to be done,” she answered the wolf back calmly, meeting her wild eyes with her own, forcing her to remain rooted with her stare.

     She took in a deep breath.

     Then another.

     Before making the final step to the edge of the vortex and shoving her hands into it.

     The powerful draw was almost instant, the dark magic latching onto her, crawling up her fingers and sinking into her veins like the fangs of a snake. She could hear Ruby and Henry cry out, but she held her ground, keeping steady even as the curse thickened in her bloodstream.

     It could have been mere seconds, but it felt like slow ticking minutes before the death curse absorbed her completely, kicking her painfully backwards to the ground, continuing to ravage her--all while the portal shifted back to is healthy purple, waiting to dispense that which traveled within.

 

*****

 

**_Emma and Snow - Present_ **

 

     Emma didn’t really remember traveling through the portal that had tossed them into the Enchanted Forest. All she could recall was looking at her tingling hands, sensing the approaching Wraith, pushing Regina out of the way, and then falling...lots of falling.

     It was almost dreamlike.

     Nothing compared to what they were going through now.

     They weren’t falling, not really, and if it was a dream-state it was a painful and violent one.

     Racing green static charges like electrical bursts fluttered wildly all around them, striking out at her as they kind of...floated in mid-air. It was almost as if they were suspended, caught in the uptake of a tornado but unable to break through the outer forces or draw closer to the calming eye.

     “Emma,” Snow shouted in concern, tugging on their hands, trying to draw her closer. “Emma, what’s going on?”

     “Ow! How the--ow--hell should, grrrr, I know!”  _ Jesus! Why was it attacking only her! _

     “Emma!”

      Snow’s cry of worry was swallowed out by a thunderous sound rumbling around them, the green lightning bolts stabbing her like sharp needles more incessantly as if suddenly stirred into a frenzy.

_      For fuck’s sake _ , she gritted, trying to curl herself into a protective fetal position.

     This wasn’t how it was suppose to go.

_      Henry. _

     He was all she could think about.

_      How the hell do I get home to Henry? _

     And suddenly, just as it had all started, the rage of the vortex stopped.

     Soft lilac drifted around them, slowly fading, letting them fall gently to a solid base that eventually revealed itself to be the very room they had last been in back in Storybrooke.

     “Emma!”

     Her breath hitched and she turned her unsteady gaze towards the voice, emotions popping inside of her like pop rocks at the sight of him.

     “Henry!”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Henry raced forward, breaking free of David’s grip, charging into the kneeling body of his birth mother. He was overwhelmed with emotion, gripping her tightly, digging his fingers into the leather of her jackets as tears streamed down his face.

     He heard his gramps call out Snow’s name, and felt the larger man rush by him as he met his true love in a tight embrace. She had done it! They were home!

     But at what cost?

     Pulling back, uncaring at the state of his distress, he tugged Emma up from her wobbly knees.

     “You have to help mom!” His voice cracked with panic, his eyes swinging from hers to the body of his mother lying crumpled just a few feet away. “She brought you guys back, but she needs you to save her!

     “Wait, what?”

     Emma grabbed Henry by the shoulders, trying to steady him--and herself--as she took in his words and the people around them. Rumpel was staring at them intently meters away, his hand gripping his cane tightly. Mother Superior and Grumpy were pushing through the gated partition towards Snow and David, though their faces more distressed than happy.

     And Regina...where was Regina?

     “Mom! You have to save mom!”

     Henry yanked her forward, making her stumble, and she looked up to see an unknown woman kneeling with Ruby by a crumpled body.

     She felt the air leave her as she caught on who the prone figure was.

     “Regina,” she whispered, dropping to her knees beside Ruby, taking in the shallow complected woman.

     “Wha-what happened,” she asked the waitress, reading the conflicted emotions easily as they flickered across her face.

     “She removed a death curse from the portal,” replied the auburn haired woman opposite of her, drawing Emma’s attention towards her. “To bring you and Snow through.”

     “Who are you,” she asked defensively, hackles raised at a stranger kneeling over the mother of her son.

     “A friend,” she replied with a sympathetic smile.

     That didn’t ease Emma’s distress.

     “How do I help her?” She turned back to Ruby, catching Henry’s worried gaze that seemed to match the burnetts.

     Obviously this death curse was as dire as it sounded.

     “You can’t,” came Blue and Rumpel’s voice, echoing around her as they approached, though Rumpel backed off when everyone glared his way.

     She narrowed her eyes on him, sensing he held a responsibility for this.

     “It’s a death curse,” Blue continued, Snow and David shuffling up behind her. “There is nothing to be done but let it run it’s course.”

     “Bullshit,” she bit back. Her hardening gaze darting to Rumpel. “I know all curses can be broken, so tell me, Rumpelstiltskin, how do I break this?”

     But the Imp just shook his head.

     “I’m afraid that’s not always true, deary.” His own conflicted gaze fell to the woman before her. “Some things simply can’t be undone.”

     Emma shook her head.

     “No. I don’t accept that.” Henry knelt beside her, his hand seeking out her arm, needing the contact. She can’t let him down. Not now. Not after everything she had just been through to get back to him.

     “Emma,” Snow spoke up softly, kneeling down beside her, catching her attention. “Do what you do best.” Hazel eyes full of hurt and mixed affection darted to the dying woman. “Do what you know. Save her, like you would anybody else.”

_      Trust yourself, _ she heard between the words.  _ Go with your gut, and trust yourself. _

     Taking a deep breath, she shifted closer to Regina, reaching out hesitantly, before pushing strands of soft loose dark hair back away from her face.

_      God _ . She looked so small and broken lying there before her. Nothing like the imposing woman who met her late at night outside her doorstep all those months ago. Not like the defiant, bitchy Mayor. Or the mother bear who railed in defense of her cub.

     She was no longer the woman Emma had known just days prior.

     A shiver tore through her at the dichotomy.

     Eyes taking her in, the former Sheriff allowed her years of training to take over, checking her vitals--noting the barely there pulse--taking into account her clammy skin, and leaning over her more protectively as she heard the faintest of gurgles coming from the woman’s chest.

     “Is it like drowning,” she asked Rumpel, though her eyes never left the face not far from her own.

     “I suppose so,” the Imp sighed, resigned to the fact Emma was going to try whatever she could to save his former apprentice. “The curse is consuming her, filling her up--so to speak--with dark magic that she cannot expel.”

_      Good. _ That was something she could work with.

     Ripping her jacket off, she moved right beside Regina and tilted her head back, preparing her for CPR.

     It wasn’t magic, but it was realistic.

     “Give me some room,” she ordered those around her, and they shifted back as she took in a steadying breath and leaned down, preparing herself to save the untamed creature beneath her.

     Pink lips were barely an inch from the Mayor’s blue when they suddenly parted on their own accord. The magic fueling the death curse having somehow sensed her, released a hideous green like gas up out of her mouth straight into Emma’s.

     The blond reeled back at the unexpected action, resisting with every fiber in her being to swallow or absorb the magic in any way. She closed her mouth tightly, willing herself to ignore the tingling within like harsh cigarette smoke.

     She was getting light headed--verging on passing out--when the gas shifted into a liquid. Turning, she spit the fluid out, green and black particles splattering onto the floor beside her.

_      Jesus, that’s gross! _

     But it was something vital, she knew, as Henry and Snow shuffled closer to Regina once more, a glimmer of hope entering her eyes.

_      Hold on madam Mayor, _ she thought, a new tickling sensation crawling across her skin, making the hair on her arms raise. It reminded her of Cora, but far more pleasant.

     Bending over once more, the transition of the magic from Regina to her went smoother, once more turning to liquid she could spit out, and back again--over and over until suddenly a weak arm raised up, blocking her fifth descent.

     Emma watched, her entire body buzzing, as Regina’s eyes flew open and the woman rolled partially towards her, gagging and coughing up the disgusting liquid all on her own. The blond had never been more thankful in her life than she was in that moment to have the dark haired woman’s hand gripping her tank-top tightly.

     Henry nestled into her, body pressing as tightly as possible as it shook uncontrollably, and she wrapped an arm around him as he reached out to run a soothing hand over his other mother. She let him cry, tears trickling down her own face as the last few days came barreling through her emotional ways.

     When confused--bleary honey brown eyes met theirs--they greeted them in unison with a hoarse, “Hey.”

     Regina, obviously a bit out of it, leaned back for a moment, taking mother and son in, before croaking back a, “Hey,” of her own.

     Emma and Henry chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Snow are finally home! Yes! Whew. And good job Em on saving Regina. 
> 
> There were a lot of ways I played out how this should all go down. Cora and/or Hook waking up and interrupting them. The curse poisoning Emma as well so both her and Regina would suffer. Emma failing only to have Henry save his mom.
> 
> But in the end, this plays out exactly how it has to for coming events. For now, let's be thankful everyone is going to get a moment to catch their collective breath.


	31. Yin and Yang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend all. Another long chapter to move things forward. I hope everyone in the path of recent natural events are staying safe. Enjoy!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Snow hugged Grumpy and Blue once more as they stood in the doorway of the loft she shared with Emma, their faces a mix of relief and apprehension. Their eyes kept flickering between an anxious David behind her, and the small family nestled on a makeshift bed within the tiny apartment. Had she the stamina to withstand their company longer, she would have tried--yet again--to alleviate their rational concerns.

     But she was done for the day.

     With everything.

     Sighing, she closed the door on the departing pair. Leaning against its weathered green surface, closing her eyes, she let her husband pull her gently into his arms.

     “What a day,” she mumbled into his warm chest, chuckling as she felt it rumble with suppressed laughter.

     “More like a long week,” he replied, tipping her head back to place a tender, calming kiss on her lips.

_      God _ , she had missed him so.

     Weary eyes opening, she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close.

     Turning slightly, she took in the sight of Regina asleep on the bed--Henry curled up beside her with Emma at his back, and just stared. She tracked the way Henry’s fingers reached out every so often to double check his mother’s pulse, smiling to himself when reassured, and squeezing Emma’s hand in silent request for her to continue her tale of their Enchanted Forest adventure. She noted the way Emma’s eyes also watched Henry’s behavior intently, curiosity tinted with fear of the unknown coloring her hazel gaze. She spotted the barely noticed moments when Regina shifted closer, protectively so, toward her son in her slumber state.

     And she framed the whole of it all in her mind, taking a mental picture to ponder on later.

    Obviously a lot had occurred while they were gone.

     In Blue and Grumpy’s words, ‘ _ not all of it good.’ _

     The fact that Regina--her former stepmother, the Evil Queen--was resting in the presence of her beloved attested to that.

      But the changes...these visible changes felt...unmeasured. It was neither right nor wrong. It just...was. For now.

     After Emma had...revived her? Pulled her back from the brink of death? David had moved into action, sending everyone out of Town Hall to their respective daily duties, declaring that his  _ family _ needed time to rest, and they could all reconvene tomorrow. She had not realized that included the former Queen until Ruby picked up the semi-conscious woman, and followed David to his truck--placing her directly beside herself in the seat. Emma, still slightly disoriented, had to give her the keys to the bug--still parked at the hall from days prior--so they could bring Henry home with them.

     It was all surreal, and she had questions.

     So many questions.

     “You need to rest,” came David’s tender voice, drawing her from her observation and thoughts.

     She sighed again in acknowledgement, and let him lead her past the trio in the living room towards her curtained off bed. It wasn’t until the cotton divide was drawn before her that she could break her eyes away from the scene.

     “Where did Ruby go again,” she asked, unable to recall when her friend had left between their arrival and Grumpy and Blue’s own leaving.

     “To the Station,” David explained as he pulled back the sheets and helped her into bed, crawling in after her. “She’s going to watch it for me until she has to return to the library later.”

     “Library? What library?”

     “The one inside the clock tower,” he replied, settling back against the pillows, pulling her close so her head could rest on his chest, his fingers running soothingly along her back.

     She shook her head slightly.

     Just another thing to add to the long list of unknowns.

     “Three days, David. We were only gone three days. How could so much happen in seventy two hours?”

     “Because no matter how much we want it to, the world doesn’t stop just for us.” His whispered response tugged at her heart strings, the truth of it bringing unwanted emotions to the surface, and she buried herself further into him--letting silent tears fall while he held her until sleep claimed them both.

 

*****

 

      Like Henry, Emma was too wired to rest. The entirety of the morning had her mind spinning, and the overwhelming reality of her return to Storybrooke was keeping her on edge. Fairytales were real. Her  _ parents  _ were real.  _ Magic _ was real.

      You would think, being a child of the eighties where films like The NeverEnding Story, The Dark Crystal, and the Disney Classics, would have prepared her for this--or at the least make it more manageable--but that wasn’t how it felt.

     If anything, the knowledge of them freaked her out more.

     A bail jumping biker with a gun wasn’t near as disturbing as the memory of that oger. Or the corpses piled within the refugee camp. Or Cora.

     She suppressed a shiver at the reminder of the vile woman, her left hand reaching up to touch her chest just to be sure her heart was still beating there. She had completely forgotten about her fingers being tangled with Henry’s until she felt his tiny hand against her warm skin.

     “Were you scared,” he asked softly, drawing her from her thoughts as she had stopped talking just short of their morning adventure.

      Clearing her throat, meeting his curious eyes, she nodded. “Yes, I was.”

     His gaze drifted from her back to his mother, silent for a few beats before he said, “Me too.”

     Emma watched him, head resting on the palm of her right hand as she lay beside him. He had yet to tell her about the last three days here, and Regina had only remained conscious long enough to be moved--by an obscenely strong Ruby no less--before passing out once more, but clearly mother and son were no longer at odds with one another.

     She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

     The reality of her situation was making her feet restless, pulsing fear into her heart in a familiar way, but her want--her desires--were at odd with past habits.

     Because she was yet again an outsider looking in on an existing unit. Regina was Henry’s mother. Had been since he was only days old.

     ‘ _ In the last decade, while you’ve been… Well, who knows what you’ve been doing. I’ve changed every diaper. Soothed every fever. Endured every tantrum. _

_       You may have given birth to him, but he is my son.’ _

     The memory of those words haunted her.

     Regina had been right. Even while her and Henry had gone behind her back, had formed their own little unit, had conspired against her and even tried to flee, she was still his mother--they were still a family.

     And Emma wanted in on that.

     Not like when she had been five and passed up for the younger, cuter, toddlers. Not like when she had been eight and returned from her third foster home. No. Like she had been at three, when the only people she had ever called mom and dad for more than a year, had loved her.

     Until they dropped her off one day, never to return.

     Emma yearned.

     She ached, and riled, with the want of a child left unloved for far, far too long.

     Her emotions were boiling.

     She was an orphan, caught up in the sea, staring at land she had no idea how to get to on her own.

 

*****

 

     Rumpel sat behind the counter of his shop, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in all the trinkets and magical items he had gathered over time. The collection was vast, the more...potent items hidden in plain sight. He had three hundred plus years of dark magic and archaic knowledge stored all around him.

     Yet none of them could sooth his soul at the moment.

_      Cora’s coming. _

     He could feel it in his bones.

     How Snow White and her daughter managed to return unscathed was a mystery he needed to unravel.

     Because he had seen the Savior’s magic in action.

     Had felt the potential burning around them.

     Untapped and untrained, she had done the impossible.

     She had brought Regina back from the grips of death. Had sucked in a curse, had mutated its natural form, resisted it, and then purged it into a useless puddle of waste.

     It was not only unheard of, it was downright unfathomable.

     Natural magic like that was...well... _ unnatural. _

     Everything required balance.

     Yin and yang, the sun and moon, celestial shifting, light and dark--and magic. If the product of true love had such outrageous light magic, then who--and where--was her opposite?

     One cannot exist without the other.

     And now that she was awakened, so would her polar equal be as well.

     Sighing, rubbing his hands wearily over his face, Rumpel gathered himself and turned to a small cabinet nearby, pulling vials from their placement and organizing them on the counter before him. There was work to be done. Not only in protecting himself--and this town--from Cora’s arrival, but also in his continued advances to finding a solution to the border keeping them all trapped within Storybrooke.

     His Bae was still out there.

     And he needed to find him.

 

*****

 

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

      The dwindling sunlight flickered between the narrow window panes, casting shades of gold and turqoise upon the single drawing pinned to the woodwork. Weathered fingers barely aged by time traced charcoal lines--the arch of a brow, the curve of a lip, the strong stroke of hair that seemed frozen mid wind-swept past a delicate ear.

     Hook took another swig from his flask, the gentle rocking of his ship lulling his still frazzled nerves. The masterpiece of Milah before him shifted in his haze to the scene at the lake earlier that day and he flinched--fist curling tightly around his drink--desperately willing it away. He had never been more thankful for the Swan woman's resilience than he was in that moment. When the sound of firm boots walking across his deck drew his attention, he didn’t resist the sneer that settled across his mouth.

_      Cora. _

_      Bloody demon. _

     “Are we ready to sail, dear Captain?” Her falsely sweet voice pierced the air around him as she descended to his cabin. Hook kept his back turned, waiting until he managed to shift his face into a mask of indifference, before glancing her way.

     “Aye,” he replied, moving his head just enough to gaze back at her over his shoulder as she stood in the threshold of his sanctuary. “Once the sun sets past the horizon we’ll leave port.”

     The smile she offered him was cold, and Hook shifted in the chill of her stare.

     “Excellent.”

     A strained silence fell between them--her eyeing him thoughtfully as his fingers flexed in irritation.

     Unable to stand the scrutiny for more than a couple minutes, Hook finally turned towards her and raised his rum out.

     “Want some?”

     He took satisfaction in the way her nose crinkled in disgust.

     Lifting her chin, Cora took a step back into the narrow hallway.

     “No thank you. I’m going to rest a bit. Fetch me when we set off.”

     He nodded in acknowledgement, watching her depart as he took a healthy drag of his drink.

     Her foot falls drifting away, he turned back to the drawing of Milah, eyeing her with a heavy soul, before shifting his gaze to the waters out past his window--thoughts of dark menacing brown eyes circling his mind.

_      Forgive me, my love. _

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

_      The Evil Queen stood in regal mourning splendor as she stared down into the coffin before her. Hair pushed high, held back by a crown of black feathers, her body cloaked as if wrapped in a raven’s wings--she held a single red rose tightly between trembling fingers.  _

_      “Without you, I never would have become the person I am now,” she said as she placed a gloved hand upon the seal of the stone casket. Her eyes raked over her mother’s still form, jeweled in a sapphire and silver gown. “But I had no choice.” _

_      Tears threatened her eyes, her face contorting with a mixture of pain. _

_      “I had to do this.” _

_      Leaning closer she tried to explain. _

_      “When you killed Daniel you told me something I’ve never forgotten. Love. Is. Weakness.” Her voice softened, a reveal tipping off her tongue. “And mother you are my weakness...because I love you.” _

_      The words were barely a whisper. _

_      But they echoed in the stillness of the tomb. _

_      She sniffled, trying to reign in her vulnerability. _

_      She gasped, however, when her mother’s hand suddenly shot forward, gripping her tightly by the neck. Her eyes bulged as her mother sat up, a dead snarling stare meeting her horrified gaze. _

_      “Please, Regina,” her mother scoffed with brittle disdain. “Don’t sell me lies now. We both know, you never loved me.” _

_      She tried to shake her head no in denial, pulling at the fingers holding her in constriction, but her mother only dragged her closer, her heart pounding in her ears. A sadistic smile spread across her mother’s painted lips as green smoke began to billow around them out of nowhere, choking the air, blurring her vision. _

_      “You have failed at everything I have ever laid out for you,” Cora sighed in disappointment, her tone harsh on the Queen’s ringing ears. “You should have let the death curse take you, my dear, because we both know you’ll never be the mother young Henry needs.” _

_      Another hand joined her mother’s, and the Queen shook at the clawing grasp as it sank into her shoulder and pushed her violently into the consuming coffin. _

 

     Regina tore herself awake, launching up from the makeshift bed on to unsteady feet. Eyes unfocused in the shadows around her, she rushed forward on auto pilot and managed to reach the bathroom before her stomach lurched the last dredging of the death curse into the toilet. The heaving strained her weary body, and she rested her forehead upon her forearm on the rim of the porcelain in defeat.

     Death, she felt, would have been less harsh than this.

     Her rapid heartbeat slowing as her panicked breathing evened out, she heard a throat clear behind her, and Regina stiffened at the intrusion. She didn’t dare move, unwilling to face whoever had caught her in such a despicable state. A glass, nevertheless, was placed with a gentle clink onto the floor beside her, before she heard soft footsteps leave and the click of a door closing behind them.

     She stifled a sob that broke from her throat, smothering her fatigue and heartache with the dampness of her dress shirt. Her mind was running rampant with memories new and old. Her mother in her sarcophagus, Emma leaning over her, Henry holding her hand tightly, her father collapsing as she held his heart in her hand. The images flickered by like an old movie reel and she curled further into herself, willing it all away.

 

     It was almost an hour later before she was able to drag herself out of the loft bathroom, hoping like hell no one was outside the small room waiting on her.

     That hope was dashed, however, when she found Emma sitting hunched over at the kitchen bar with a glass between her hands. The sound of the door closing must have caught her attention as she looked up and met Regina’s gaze, letting seconds tick by, before she pushed another glass filled with water across the counter towards her.

     Brown eyes danced between green and gold before she cleared her throat and rasped, “Got anything stronger?”

     With a quirk at the corner of thin lips, Emma stood and reached into a nearby cabinet, pulling a bottle of whiskey and two glasses down. She returned to her stool and Regina hesitantly came to stand across the counter from her, eyes sweeping the apartment as night began to settle around them.

     She sniffed as Emma poured a half glass for both of them, keeping her still trembling fingers curled in towards herself, until her glass was pushed softly within reach. Silence drifted about, but like every other time prior, they talked by studying one another. Even in the blues, and greys, and muted yellows, they could see weighted lines, unsteady hands, goose pimples spreading across exposed flesh, and smell anxiety swirling in the air.

     Regina highly doubted the burning liquor would settle her fried nerves, but at least it would replace the horrendous taste in her mouth for something a bit sweeter.

     Another beat passed before she finally broke the silence. “You look like hell.” She resisted a smile at Emma’s snort in response, but couldn’t help the twinkle in her eyes as the other woman glared at her before chuckling and nodding her head towards her.

     “So do you, madam Mayor.”

     She sneered back at the retort, but her huff of indignation was barely audible.

     A sound from the living room area caught their attention, and both women waited with bated breath to see if Henry was stirring from slumber. He mumbled something nonsensible, rolled a couple of times, but settled without incident.

     Each released a sigh of relief and felt the tension between them abate, but Emma’s gaze held onto Henry a bit longer, her eyes shining in the street light streaming in. Regina’s heart constricted at the sight, the emotions pouring off of the Sheriff reminiscent of the hospital room she never, ever, wanted to return to.

     Setting her almost empty glass down, she cast her eyes to the surface of the counter beneath it and cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly, though her words sounded strained. Looking up, she caught vibrant forest staring intently back at her. “For saving me. I don’t know how...or why, you did, but...thank you.”

     Emma took a long sip from her drink, holding her stare, before giving a shrug and replying just as softly, “Thank you for bringing us back.”

     She simply nodded in return.

     Watching her glass being filled back up to its original level, Regina swept her eyes around the apartment as she gathered her thoughts, fingers unconsciously running through her mussed hair.

     “We have a lot to talk about,” she sighed, taking a hefty swallow, letting the whiskey coat her raw throat. “Much of it unpleasant, I suppose.”

     Emma’s face scrunched, a precursor to a protest Regina had become accustomed to over the past few months, and shook her head before the words even left the blond’s mouth.

     “Does it have to be right now?”

     “No,” she replied, her exhausted state obvious. “But in the morning, we will have to  _ ‘hash things out’ _ as you would say. I won’t go another day forward without us being on level, Emma.”

    Her response, and the use of the Sheriff’s name, got her a raised brow of surprise. She had gotten so use to referring to Miss Swan as  _ ‘Emma’ _ around David and Henry that she hadn’t even realized the intimacy of the act until it had slipped past her lips.

     But it was just another line crossed between them, one in countless others they had overstepped since the night Emma showed up at her doorstep with Henry in tow.

     The blond sighed and nodded wearily. “You’re right. We do need to talk, about a lot of things,” her words insinuating a few particular topics fresh on their minds, “but for now we need to rest. Cora and Hook’s impending arrival can wait until tomorrow.”

     Regina’s eyes cast off to the far window panes at the reminder, staring out into the inky night, her fingers caressing the glass in hand.

     “H-how much...,” she struggled to get the right words out, “How much interaction with my...mother, did you have?”

     She was as curious about the answer as much as she was afraid of it.

     No encounters with Cora, even in her experience, had ever been good.

     Emma’s huff into her raised glass drew her attention back, and she flinched as the blond let her glass rest with a resounding thump upon the counter.

     “A hell of a lot more than I ever wanted to,” she groused, left hand unconsciously rising to rub at her chest.

     The action stilled Regina’s heart, the room narrowing in on fingers brushing against reddened skin. She felt her own chest squeeze as a rushing wave of nausea hit her and her ears began to ring.

_      No. _

     The single thought had barely passed through her mind before she found herself nose to nose with Emma pushed all the way across the room, the blond’s back pressed against the wall by the door. She never heard the stool fall, her gasp of surprise, or the  _ oof _ that left her as she hit the solid brick. All Regina could hear was the rushing in her ears as she placed one hand beside Emma’s head, and the other on her abdomen--wide eyes focused intently on her chest.

     “What the hell,” the Sheriff hissed out, her green orbs blown wide in shock, her body going stiff. Regina’s head shook back and forth as her chest rose in stuttering staccato.

     “Tell me what happened,” she bit out, but her tone was more hysterical than it was harsh. When Emma failed to respond, she darted her eyes upward and caught the woman’s heated gaze. “Tell me what happened,” she demanded again, fear pushing her forward until they were sharing ragged breaths.

     “She...,” Emma rasped, trying to calm herself, realizing Regina was teetering on a full blown melt down. “She tried to take my heart.”

     “Tried,” the burnet croaked, her mind grasping onto that singular word.

     Mother never  _ tried _ anything.

     She succeeded. Nothing less.

     But the blond nodded, her fingers wrapping firmly around the wrist of her hand that held her in place.

     “Tried,” Emma repeated, drawing a deep breath in and letting it out. “I don’t know how, I’m barely holding onto the reality of everything that’s gone down, but I know for certain your mother didn’t get what she wanted.”

     Brown held green, begging for honesty, praying that the truth in Emma’s gaze was real. When it didn’t waver, when a flicker of gold circled hazel, Regina released a choked breath and closed her eyes, hanging her head wearily.

_      Mother failed. _

     For once, she had managed to not take that which could destroy her.

     A light flicked on behind them, casting the shadows back, and both women looked to find David standing warily just outside the bedroom curtain.

     “What the hell is going on here?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. Everyone has a lot to think about. And absorb. This feels like the calm before the storm. Hopefully, things get situated enough that we are ready when Cora and Hook indeed arrive in Storybrooke.
> 
> Emma and Regina's scene went way longer than I had originally anticipated. They do need to talk, about a few hot topics for sure, but I didn't expect for Emma to reveal about the heart thing right at that moment. Then again, it's probably been sitting on her tongue, weighing her down, until she could share it with someone who might understand. It may seem odd for it to be Regina, but she has often tried to offer up bits and pieces of herself to the other woman, whether out of a need to bridge some kind of understanding, or a deeply rooted instinct that they share a common past, is unclear.
> 
> Hopefully David and the others can help them 'hash things out' without a fist or two flying in response.


	32. Let's Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend folks! I hope you are all staying safe and sound <3
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “I-I’m sorry. Emma, I’m sorry.”

     The blond cringed at the apology, very unaccustomed to the contrite look on Regina’s face. David’s interruption of their little...whatever that had been, found them back at the kitchen counter, glasses of water between her and the Mayor, while David had his turn with the bottle of whiskey.

     His watchful eyes kept bouncing between them, and Emma bristled at the notion that he felt entitled to do so.

_      ‘You found us.’ _

     Mary Margaret’s words from days earlier ping ponged through her head along with the impromptu hug that Emma wasn’t really receptive of.

     They were her parents.

     David, formerly married to Katherine, was her  _ father _ .

     Not oddly so, she didn’t find that comforting.

     Perhaps it was the whiskey. Maybe it was due to him still relatively being a stranger. It could even be the trauma of the days spent traveling through the Enchanted Forest and the whole Cora ordeal. Whatever it was, Emma was feeling defensively on edge, a bubbling of emotions making her shift closer to the woman beside her than the man who had supposedly put her in a wardrobe.

     Their dynamic, so far, was familiar, relatively unchanged by the curse breaking.

     Everyone else, however, was different.

     Mary Marga--Snow  _ (what kind of name is that?) _ , Ruby, Leroy, Mother Superior. She hated to even think what the rest of the townsfolk were like now. Would they still behave normally? Or would Storybrooke descend into some medieval dystopia? Would they even  _ stay _ here? This was suppose to be a curse, a punishment, after all.

     Suppressing a snort and sighing, Emma ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. This land, compared to the Enchanted Forest, was hardly a hell hole.

     “I think we need to go over what’s happened the last few days since--Snow and I have been gone,” she finally said, breaking the tension a bit between the three of them. Her eyes narrowed on David. “Because I’m getting the impression  _ a lot _ has gone down.”

     He and Regina shared an intense look, and Emma felt her frustration increase.

     “Spill,” she barked, brooking no argument.

     And so they did.

     Sharing everything from Regina being removed as Mayor to Daniel’s heartbreaking return, the town line dilemma, the former DA’s revenge plot, Rumpel, and the race to bring her and Snow home.

     It was all so...overwhelming.

     And yet, Emma could only think,  _ ‘if I had been here, none of that would have happened’ _ .

     She hadn’t missed the badge clipped to David’s belt. The one he had  _ taken _ , not  _ earned _ . If Regina hadn’t been willing to play nice, the town line fiasco, and people half heartedly returning to their jobs, would have been the only thing resolved.

     Even that was tentative.

     It was like some twisted modern Game of Thrones.

     Only much, much worse.

     Silence fell between them once they had shared their side of things. It was stiflingly, leaving all uncomfortable...and Emma reveled in it. 

_      Good. They can share how I feel. _

     Eventually though, as David finished his whiskey, and Regina had retrieved another glass of water for herself, Emma cleared her throat and placed her hand palm up on the counter.

     “Give it to me,” she requested, eyes darting from the marble top to David.

     Frowning, he glanced at Regina curiously, before it seemed to click in his mind what Emma was asking for. Opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it, he sighed in resignation. Retrieving the badge resting on a stand nearby--along with the holster he had been wearing--he placed both on the counter before her, his face pensive.

     Taking them, the rightful Sheriff thumbed her star thoughtfully as her gaze shifted to the former Mayor.

     “Does the council even have the authority to force you to step down?”

     Regina’s right eyebrow twitched in surprise at her question, before she cleared her throat, replying hesitantly, “They have the necessary skills to govern Storybrooke without me. Authority...is a matter of interpretation, at the moment.”

     Emma’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. “We’re not changing governing systems just because everyone can remember their past fairytale life. So long as they are here in this land, they’ll obey by its laws.”

     David’s eyes widened in surprise.

     Regina resisted the smile tugging at her lips.

     This was the side of Emma that she secretly admired. The dominant, egotistical, punch you in the jaw and hold you to the letter of the law, kind. 

     “Emma, you’re going to have to understand--” David started, but the glare she met him with halted his words, and this time Regina didn’t hold back her delight at their conflict.

     “I don’t have to understand anything,” the blond bit out. “This isn’t the Enchanted Forest. I don’t care if all of you consider yourselves refugees seeking sanctuary in a new country. You have your false memories, you know how this town and this land works. Nothing about that is going to change just because _ you _ said so. You’re not Sheriff, and you’re certainly not King here.”

     “If it wasn’t for her,” David countered with a heated glare her way, pressing for understanding. “We wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. I was trying to protect the people, to give them hope.”

     Emma snorted, loudly and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. She’s the Evil Queen, I get it. She cursed you all to a land full of indoor plumbing, heat, electricity, stable economics, and progressive social views. Storybrooke is a downright nightmare.”

      The sarcasm was practically dripping onto the counter between them, and Regina had to turn away to take a drink, ‘less David and Emma saw the wicked grin that had blossomed across her face, an unnameable warmth also settling in her stomach.

     “Look, here’s the deal,” Emma sighed, drawing Regina back. “I get that everyone is...confused and struggling at the moment. That you, and...others are use to being in a position of authority and power.” Green eyes flickered her way, an agitated hand gesturing between her and David. “And I’m grateful you stepped up when someone needed to. But here’s the thing--that can’t happen again. We can’t have people going off being vigilantes, claiming the law is in their hands because of who they once were. Storybrooke is a small waterfront town that runs on democracy and trade goods. Surely  _ both _ of you can understand how incredibly fragile that is.”

     When they remained silent, intently listening, Emma continued gently. “Your quarrels, whatever they were, are going to have to be let go of. Same goes for everybody else, or we won’t have to worry about Cora and Hook. We’ll have already self destruct, and I don’t want to see that happen. ” 

 

*****

 

     Morning came far too early for any of them, David unable to go back to sleep, Emma getting short lived naps before nightmares tore her awake, and Regina finally retiring to her own empty house--promising Emma that she would be back for breakfast so Henry could be assured that she was recovering--albeit slowly--from the death curse.

     The addition of the others present yesterday did not ease the tension within the tiny apartment. Snow and Regina kept sharing hostile glares, while Emma and Henry nestled hip to hip like outsiders in need of comfort and security.

     No one questioned Rumpel’s whereabouts, but they all wondered what the Imp was currently up to.

      Once everyone was settled, Emma turned to Regina and asked the most important question on their mind. “How long do we have until Cora and Hook arrive?”

     Coffee in hand, using it to keep her shaky fingers steady, the older brunette shrugged. “It’s impossible to say, really. It comes down to what means they are traveling by. Previous events aside, crossing between realms isn’t as easy as everyone assumes.”

     “Have you crossed other realms, besides this one, and Wonderland,” queried Henry, fingers playing unconsciously with the necklace he was still wearing. 

     Emma frowned at its existence, making a mental note to ask Henry to give it to her later. She didn’t want him traversing to anymore places in his sleep like he had shared with her earlier upon waking.  _ That  _ had been an altogether new nightmare for her.

     Regina hesitated just a beat, before nodding. “Yes. I had used Jefferson’s hat quite often in the past, but there were always rules to it--in the Enchanted Forest at least. Those rules, it seems, don’t apply here.”

     “Because magic is different in Storybrooke,” Henry recalled from previous conversations.

     Regina smiled affectionately at his recollection, pride swelling inside of her.

     “Does that mean she’ll be less of a threat when they appear,” Ruby wondered, the waitress shifting restlessly on her feet. Her second run last night had been good, but she felt on edge, curious if the magic here was altering the way she use to handle herself.

     A conversation with Belle about it on their walk over had only left her more uncertain.

     “Doubtful,” Snow snorted, remembering vividly the way Emma had pulled the death curse from Regina yesterday.

     She doesn’t know much about magic, but she knows enough to be aware that something profound had occurred in that moment. Whether it was Regina or Emma’s doing, she wasn’t clear, but  _ someone _ had performed a magnificent feat.

     Enough to make Rumpel’s eyes glimmer with worry.

     “If it was you, your Majesty, how would you cross over to Storybrooke,” David asked, their prior conversation still weighing on his mind. Olive branches and trust were a delicate thing, but he was willing to keep trying. They had managed well, so far.

     Regina pondered for a moment on everything she knew about the curse she had cast, including the adjustments she had made without Rumpel’s knowing. There was much to consider, but few options truly available to the Pirate and her mother.

     “By ocean,” she eventually replied, drawing all eyes on her. “Water, especially flowing water, does not trap magic--it carries it. You can put a potion in a bottle, or contain a spell in a tube, but you cannot suppress magic where water is involved. It’s another reason why the barrier does not extend beyond the docks. The flowing tides simply won’t allow a magical wall to hold in a locked position. They would attempt to move it, stretching it beyond its means, and breaking its infrastructure in the process.”

     “So if Hook had a vessel, they could just sail right on it,” Snow snarked, and Regina stared her down, bristling at her derisive tone.

     David had talked to his wife earlier about their conversation last night, but Snow was still on edge trying to absorb everything, and not being hostile with Regina was difficult. Especially as it appears her and David had reached a tentative something while she was gone.

     “Indeed he does,” Belle acknowledged, sharing a knowing gaze with Regina.

     She was familiar, after all, with Killian Jones.

     “What state was my...mother in when you left her,” questioned the former Mayor to Snow and Emma, crossing--then uncrossing--her ankles as she fidgeted. Just the thought of her mother still made her anxious.

      She needed to know what to expect.

      Unlike everyone else, she knew what Cora was like when she was on a mission.

      “Flat on her ass,” Emma smirked, meeting Regina’s gaze with her trade mark cocky attitude.

     Regina glowered.

     Of course.

      Leave it to Emma to always be so violently antagonistic.

     “With magic no less,” Snow added, revealing to the brunette what the others had already heard prior. “White magic. The likes of which I have rarely experienced before.”

     The Blue fairy's eyes seemed to narrow at that, a bit put off by her Queen’s declaration,  but Regina kept her surprise minimal, her eyes darting back to the savior for just a second--before clearing her throat and returning her attention to the others.

      “Good,” Leroy grumbled, slapping his hand on the counter. “She can help us blast that witch back into oblivion then when she arrives.”

     Emma shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Her gaze shifted between Snow, Regina, and the Blue fairy. She hated to disappoint but...“I didn’t consciously...do anything. It just...happened on its own. I’m not going to put the town in jeopardy by betting on me being the next Harry Potter.”

     “Who,” Leroy questioned, but Emma waved him off.

     “The point is,” she continued, moving away from Henry to stand closer to the group. “We need a solid offense. A guaranteed front that will keep Cora on edge, and hopefully, incapable of getting what she wants.”

     “And what exactly,” Mother Superior asked, “Is it that Cora’s after?”

     Snow and Emma’s eyes darted to Regina and Henry.

     Mother and son tensed in unison.

 

*****

 

     “Ready for that talk now,” Emma asked Regina hours later as the others departed, leaving just the family of five in the apartment alone.

     The little ‘pow-wow’ had been taxing--conflicting ideas on how to handle Cora, the town, and their current positions in general, had boiled their choices down to the necessity of a town meeting being called. Emma uncomfortably realized that she was going to have to take the reigns for the moment if she wanted Storybrooke to survive at all.

     When the former Mayor gave her a raised brow in response, she nodded toward the stairs leading up to her room, and then followed the brunette one weighted step at a time.

     Once the door was shut, locking them away from prying eyes and ears, Emma took a seat on her bed and sighed. She noticed a chair placed nearby that had not been there prior, and wondered about it for a second, before Regina sat in said seat and met her waiting stare.

     “So let’s have it,” she gestured for the brunette to start.

     This, she knew, was going to be another long talk.

     Regina cleared her throat, idly playing with her fingers, and asked, “What would you like to know?”

     Emma thought about it for a second, mind racing through all the questions she had, before settling on the one that mattered the most.

     “My mother. How does she play into what happened to..” She hesitated saying his name. She didn’t want to cause Regina any unnecessary pain. Especially pain like that.

     The woman’s distress in their prior conversation about him had been palpable.

     “To Daniel,” the brunette queried softly.

     Emma nodded.

     Regina drew in a deep breath, dropping her gaze to her fingers.

_      Where to start? _

     “A very long time ago, in a far away land, a young Princess found herself adrift on a runaway horse,” she began, her tone wistful. “Said Princess managed to race by a young woman and her secret lover in an open field, catching the woman’s attention. Being an expert rider, she didn’t hesitate to jump upon her own horse, racing off to catch up with the wayward pair, and save the princess from any undue harm.” Brown orbs drifted up briefly to hold sea foam green, and her voice took on a hard edge. “Had she known the price of her valiancy, she would have let the young girl perish.”

     Emma flinched. 

     She already knew where the story was going.

     Raising her hand to stop the woman, she took a moment to collect her thoughts, before asking hesitantly, “Where does Snow fit in with Cora and...Daniel?”

     Regina’s nostrils flared at the question, but she reigned in her initial--biting--response. “Snow caught Daniel and I planning our run away after my mother promised me to the King without my consent.” Her gaze returned to her fingers once more, her tone going bitter. “I asked the brat not to tell anyone, to keep our intended escape a secret.”

     Emma’s shoulders dropped along with her head, her gaze settling on the way Regina’s fingers were twisting in agitation. The brunette didn’t have to explain any further. She had a good idea what came next.

     “How long did it take,” she asked, lifting her head just slightly enough to capture Regina’s questioning gaze, “before you had the King killed?”

     The former Queen stiffened, eyes narrowing as if Emma was asking her more than what her words implied. When she held her stare steady, the brunette shifted her gaze around the room, replying curtly, “four years.”

     Emma sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head at the revelation.

     She let silence soothe their frayed nerves, the trauma of their own personal memories poking at their subconscious. Emma Got Regina, far more than she realized before this moment. They were alike in startling ways. In too vividly painful symmetry.

     It was awhile before she was able to collect her thoughts once more.

     “So,” she said, adjusting herself on the bed, letting her legs stretch out. “You then spent ten years at war with my parents, before creating a dark curse that tore most of the people from the Enchanted Forest to drop them here, in Storybrooke, and, what...,” she shrugged, trying to find the right words. “Lord over them like some never ending Mean Girls game?”

     Regina frowned, lips pursing at the insinuation.

     “For one, I didn’t create the curse,” she corrected, glaring a little. “Rumpelstiltskin did. I simply used it. Two, my intention wasn’t to play some  _ ‘Mean Girl’s game’ _ , as you so eloquently put it. This was suppose to be  _ my _ happy ending, a chance to get back what had been taken from me, while punishing your insipid parents in the process. Everything else,” she waved her hand dismissively, “was incidental.”

     Emma rolled her eyes at her last words, but her mind had focused in on part of Regina’s response. “Rumpelstiltskin made the curse?”

     The other woman nodded.

     “Why? What for?”

     At that, the brunette shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. Prior to the curse breaking, I never bothered to care. But now...” she drifted off, letting her unspoken concern sit between them.

     Emma felt herself growing tense once more with worry.

     “Do you think he’s a liability? Especially with Cora and Hook likely on their way?”

     Regina met her concerned stare head on.

     “Rumpelstiltskin, Emma, is not a man to be trusted.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. That was a lot of talking. Necessary, of course, but taxing nonetheless.
> 
> Emma being uncomfortable with David I think is fair. I mean, she honestly doesn't know much about him, and she's so use to taking care of herself that a sudden over protective father figure really isn't welcoming. They're going to have to work on getting to know one another, and not let their similar tempers get in the way.
> 
> Regina and Emma literally had four different conversations before I settled on the one above. Each one was about something else, a couple were all out fights, one wasn't, and the other was too emotional to happen just yet. This chapter would have been done sooner if it wasn't for them. But I'm glad Emma now know's the whole story, and I think this is a great stepping stone into them working towards trust.


	33. Questions and Concerns in Storybrooke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend all! I hope we are staying safe <3.
> 
> On to the chapter!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “Well that was a waste,” grumbled Emma as she let the door to town hall slam shut behind her. Henry, Regina, Mary Margaret and David--a few steps ahead--turned with mixed emotions on their faces. 

     Her  _ folks _ looked concerned and frustrated.

     Henry looked confused like he was lost in thought.

     And Regina...

     Well, she was looking more her typical self this evening than she had earlier in the day. Power suit, perfect hair, and unreadable mask intently met her gaze. Emma took a deep breath, trying to shake off her foul mood.

     She knew she was being a bear, her temperament more irritated and easily provoked into angry outbursts than anyone of them were use to. Her mind, and her emotions, were still all over the place. She felt like she was barely keeping her head above water, and the meeting they had just left didn’t alleviate any of her anxiety.

     The ‘ _ good people’ _ of Storybrooke, as David and Snow had called them, were useless without direction. Sure, Granny was a dead shot with a crossbow, and Ruby being the big bad wolf ( _ which Emma had so many questions about) _ was an...advantage...maybe. Katherine--aka Princess Abigail--and her true love Frederick, offered his knightly services. As did Sean, Cinderella’s Husband.

     But Leroy and his brothers with their pickaxes? And the fairies still waiting on magic dust like coke addicts hot on the heels of their dealer to supply them with their newest fix? They just aren’t enough.

     Not from what everyone has told her.

     Especially since they have Rumpelstiltskin to keep in consideration as well, his absence from the town meeting glaringly obvious.

_      This whole fucking place is jus _ t...Emma sighed again.

     This is Storybrooke.

     This is her life.

     All this chaos would be perfectly normal if things had gone differently.

     “Henry,” Emma placed her hands on her hips, meeting her son’s curious gaze. “Did the storybook ever say what was suppose to happen after the curse broke? Like is this,” she swept her hand around them, “suppose to be normal? Or did something go wrong?”

     He frowned, glancing at Regina who shrugged as she had no idea either. Rubbing his nose in thought, he took in the buildings and streets nearby before replying, “No. I mean, I thought we’d all go back to the Enchanted Forest, but that didn’t happen so...” he shrugged himself. “Maybe the curse isn’t completely broken? That would explain the barrier.”

     Emma resisted darting her eyes towards Regina at the mention of the town line. She didn’t doubt for a second her Majesty knew far more about that than she was admitting.

     Mary Margaret shook her head, stepping closer towards her grandson, catching Emma’s attention. “I can’t imagine Rumpelstiltskin would send us all back  _ if _ ,” her eyes flickered doubtfully towards her former stepmother, “he’s the one responsible for the curse in the first place.”

     David nodded, stepping supportively closer to his wife. “He’s always got a plan in motion, one manipulation turning another, only using us to get what he needs at that moment, and never revealing the entire scheme until it’s too late.”

     Regina ignored Snow’s glare, but nodded in agreement as well. “They’re right. Rumpel wanted to be in this land for a reason.”

     “Fine,” Emma said, laying out in her mind what she needed to do next.

     Gesturing to the couple, she asked, “Can you two watch Henry while Regina and I check some things out?”

     Snow frowned, a bit disturbed by her daughter’s willingness to just go off alone with Regina--as well as dismissing her and David. “You don’t want us to help?”

     “You are helping, by watching your...grandson.” That had been way harder to say than Emma thought it would be.  _ Grandson _ . Henry had  _ grandparents. _ Shaking her head, she met Mary Margaret’s displeased gaze and added, “I need him to be with someone I can trust right now, someone who can protect him.”

     That seemed to be enough to pacify them for the moment. Sighing in unison, the pair lead a reluctant Henry away--David asking Emma and Regina in parting to call if they found anything they should all know about.

     Once they were alone, Emma shifted towards the former Mayor and narrowed her eyes. “Tell me about the town line,” she said. “I know it’s not Rumpel’s doing. Why did you put it up? How does it work?”

     Opening her mouth to answer, Regina paused as the rest of the town started milling out of the hall, forcing her and Emma to start walking ahead of them towards the Sheriff’s vehicle. This conversation, she felt, needed to remain private.

     “I added the barrier to Rumpel’s curse,” the former Queen began to explain, moving closer to Emma and lowering her voice, “Because, even though I never questioned why he wanted to create Storybrook, I still didn’t trust him.”

     The blond nodded. She got that.

     “How does it work then? I mean, obviously I drove into town, but can I leave? Now that the curse is broken, can Henry or you leave like you did before?”

     “Looking to run away like you always do?” The words were out of Regina’s mouth before she could stop them. But she hesitated to apologize. The notion of the other woman leaving her and Henry again, just after she almost sacrificed herself to bring her back, was unnerving.

     Frowning, Emma stopped and pulled Regina up short, turning her. “Tell me you don’t have a bag packed, your Majesty,” she countered defensively, stormy green orbs meeting guarded brown. “Especially after hearing about Cora.”

     Regina averted her gaze, her tongue heavy with the lie of denial on it.

     “I wouldn’t blame you,” Emma revealed after a minute of silence, casting her eyes around them. “I’ve done it myself, obviously.”

     “Then why ask,” Regina wondered, if Emma wasn’t judging her.

     Meeting her query, the blonde replied, “Because I want a backup plan too, just in case, and I want to know who can and can’t cross over.”

     Another minute of silence.

     “If your parents are unable to cross the town line, would you really leave them behind,” Regina questioned. Would Emma take Henry and leave her as well? “After you’ve just found them?”

     It was Emma’s turn to deflect, eyes turning down towards her boots where she scuffed the sidewalk in contemplation.

     Finding some words with truth, she replied, “Henry is my main priority right now.” Looking up to hold Regina’s gaze once more, she added firmly, “And I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep him safe.”

 

*****

 

     Snow waited until Henry ran up to Emma’s room, taking him in as her mind still wrapped around the concept that the boy she had taught this past year was her grandson, before verbalizing concerns to David.

     “I don’t know that I trust Emma being alone with Regina,” she said, removing her coat and following her husband to the kitchenette where he was putting a kettle on the stove for tea.

     “What? Why,” David chuckled, a bit confused by his wife’s words.

     Admittedly, he didn’t really know Emma, but he had witnessed first hand Regina’s regret from their altercation the night before, and he trusted that Emma was more than capable of taking care of herself.

     “Really?” Snow raised a brow at her husband in disbelief. “It’s Regina, David. Why wouldn’t that worry you?”

     Sighing, her turned to his love and placed his hands on her hips so he had her attention.

     “I know you are still adjusting to being back here,” he said softly, stroking the skin between her shirt and pants with his thumbs. “And I know, Snow, how much we have been through with her. Trust me,” his tone turned a bit bitter as he drew her closer, “I haven’t forgotten. But,” he paused, searching for the right words, “this is a second chance for us. For  _ all  _ of us. You use to be the one all about forgiving and starting over. Why can’t we do that now? Here, in this land?”

     Snow sighed.

     “I know, I hear what you’re saying,” she replied, shaking her head slowly, “I’m just...worried. I guess, since I’ve known Emma the longest, I have seen first hand her relationship with Regina change, multiple times over and it’s just...”

     “Just...” David echoed as his wife trailed off. “What, Snow? What is it? What do you know that I don’t?”

     Meeting her husband’s apprehensive gaze, she revealed hesitantly, “Emma tried to run away with Henry right before the curse broke.”

     That shook him.

     Henry had never said.

     “Emma was going to leave?”

     Snow nodded. “She didn’t even leave a note. Just packed up a few things and was...gone. Until Henry stopped her. Well, stopped her temporarily. She was still leaving, had gone to see Regina and they had come to some sort of agreement. Really,” Snow chuckled darkly, no humor in her laugh, “if Henry hadn’t taken a bite of that cursed turnover, Emma would be long gone by now, back to Boston no doubt.”

_      Emma was going to leave. _

     The idea turned his stomach.

     “Did she know about the curse before,” he questioned, trying to wrap his mind around his daughter’s motives.

     But Snow nodded, and his heart sank.

     Emma was going to leave. Knowledge of the curse and all, she was going to leave them.

     “David,” Snow whispered, drawing him from his troubling thoughts, “what if Emma is still planning to leave? What if...” she bit her lip anxiously. “What if her and Regina still have the agreement they made? What if they take Henry and...cross the border...together?”

     He was gobsmacked. 

     Unable to fathom such a possibility.

     But obviously, it was a very real one to consider.

_      What if _ ....cut deeply into his unspoken fears. 

 

*****

 

     Belle stood outside the pawn shop in Storybrooke, watching the man she thought might be her true love moving about restlessly. Her heart ached for him. But it also throbbed for herself. She wanted so much from him,  _ for _ him, but she didn’t know if any of that was possible. Not after yesterday.

     Would he ever change?

     Was it even possible?

     She shook her head at her own thoughts.

     This was Rumpelstiltskin--the Dark One--a man centuries old, who knew more about the world than any other. He had terrified her...and saved her. He had abused her...and cherished her. He was a conflicted monster, with many layers and secrets yet to be revealed.

     What would Cora’s presence bring out in him?

     Had he loved her?

     Does he still?

     Eyes brimming with tears, her heart and mind conflicted, Belle continued past the shop with her head down, unwilling to catch his eye should he see her.

 

     Inside the shop, Rumpel waited until Belle was out of sight before slamming the book he had been pretending to look for down in frustration. His old black heart pumped in anger...and sorrow--hate for himself and the things he had done--sadness for the way the beautiful auburn woman’s eyes had swam with tears as he caught her reflection in an ornate glass.

     This was the price of his magic.

     Love was a tangible thing. He knew this. He had bottled it up, after all, and used it to bring magic to Storybrooke. But it always felt out of reach for him--even before he had become the dark one. Milah, Baelfire, Belle.

     Even Cora.

     A sneer drew across his face in reflex of her name.

     He gripped the counter tightly, the wood creaking with the strain.

     He had been up for hours, tirelessly working on a solution for her and that leather clad imbecile she was frolicking with. He was almost done. Just a touch of something special was all he needed to complete it.

     Catching tail lights illuminating outside the store in the fading daylight, he watched the Sheriff’s cruiser drive by. Emma Swan, even with her flowing blond locks, glowed--an aura of white magic pulsing around her. She seemed lost in conversation with another he could not make out, but her eyes paused--for a hair of a second--on his shop, and he swore she held his gaze in a twisted reflection beside him, before the cruiser continued on.

     His own magic hummed at the sensation of being acknowledged, like warriors on a foreign battlefield. Without body, or sight, their magic knew one another. Had it been her encounter with Cora that had awakened her? Or has Miss Swan’s magic been apart of her for far longer than she knew?

     Tonight he would give her the chance to rest a bit more.

     Tomorrow, however, they would be having a much needed chat.

 

*****

 

     As Regina stood facing the town line, twilight settling around her and Emma, she toyed with the notion of passing over the orange paint. What  _ would _ happen? Was she certain about what she had told the blond? What if she was wrong? Who would Regina Mills, former Mayor of Storybrooke, be in comparison to herself? Yes, in a morbid way, she was interested in what a cursed personality of hers would look like.

     She had lifted a foot hesitantly, and was just about to step over the line in rapt fascination, when she heard a grunt nearby and Emma bark out, “What the hell are you doing?”

     Huffing at the other woman as she trudged out of the woods, she placed her foot back on the pavement and crossed her arms, raising her chin slightly at the disheveled Sheriff.

     “Nothing,” she replied dismissively. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “What do you think? Did you satisfy your curiosity?”

     Emma had been adamant that she check the barrier out for herself, unwilling to take the words of others over her own personal interpretation. It was yet another piece of the woman Regina was beginning to be irked by as she found her more and more likable.

     Perhaps they had come at one another the wrong way.

     It was obvious Emma was nothing like her parents, and for that Regina was beyond thankful. Granted, David hadn’t been too...bad...but she wasn’t going to start singing the praises of the Uncharmings anytime soon. If ever.

     “Yep,” Emma replied, pulling her from her thoughts.

     She watched the other woman test the barrier with her hand, pushing with childlike wonder against it, until her hand passed through. The impish grin that tugged across Emma’s face reminded her so much of Henry, and Regina felt another unexpected warmth flicker inside of her.

_      What was it about mother and son that drew her so? _

_      Magic _ , her mind reasoned, and she couldn’t argue with herself.

     Emma’s magic was becoming more perceptible to her the longer they spent time together. Her memories were hazy between taking in the death curse and waking up to Emma leaning over her, but the  _ sensations _ she had felt were still with her--changing her in a way she struggled to find the right words for.

     Whatever Emma had done, however she had done it, had shifted something deep in Regina. Awakening, or reforming a very core piece of who she was--especially where her magic was concerned. That had become clear to her when she had driven the woman across the room without conscious thought. It was like instinct. Primal on the most basic biological level.

     Was this due to the curse breaking?

     Were they, in some way, intertwined?

     Did Rumpel, yet again, do something else to her--to Emma--that neither of them knew about? Another chain link within the curse to tug about as he wished whenever the time came?

     Sighing, she followed the now weary blond back to the cruiser, her inquisitiveness spent, and let those thoughts wander away--reminding herself there were more pressing things to worry about.

     The barrier was strong, for the moment, but how long would it last? Once mother arrives, will it be a blessing? Or will it become a self made prison none of them can escape? 

 

*****

 

**_Somewhere in Boston_ **

 

     A lone hooded figure muffled the  _ snick _ of the door opening before him, and slipped inside the dark apartment. Staying still for a beat, he listened to be sure no one had seen him, before he slipped his hood off and turned a nearby lamp on to light the room he was in.

     Blue-grey eyes stared in surprise at the nice furniture that filled the small unit, impressed by the view of the nighttime sky and brightly lit city out the distant kitchen window. He ran his hands thoughtfully over the kitchen counter as he drifted towards it, his eyes taking note of the unwashed glass and bowl in the sink across from him. A faint sour smell drifted from the fridge, and he recalled the date postmarked on the card he had received in the mail.

     The one with the simple handwritten word that had said,  _ broken _ .

     Rubbing wistfully at the scruff along his chin, he took a seat on a stool at the island counter, and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing a number he had on repeat, he waited through the rings, running his fingers through his shaggy dark peppered hair, until a click and the same older woman’s voice greeted him with,  _ “This is Granny speaking..” _

    He ended the call there, letting his phone drop to the counter surface.

     “Where are you, August,” he groaned aloud, hanging his head in frustration.

     Even if he rested here tonight, he would be on the road again by daybreak, and in Storybrooke--he hoped--by noon. 

     He didn’t want to just show up.

     His presence was going to cause all kinds of issues when he did.

     But he couldn’t wait for August to get back to him.

     It was like the man had vanished, yet again, and that worried him.

     Because if he wasn’t still in Storybrooke looking out for Emma, then who was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Emma. I would be on edge too if I was her. It's one thing to acknowledge something. It's an entirely different thing for the reality of that acknowledgement to settle in. Her entire world has just tilted on its axis, at everyone around her is asking a lot more from her than they realize.
> 
> I also get why the town line is another thing for her and Regina to bond over. Unspoken as it is, they are join mothers to Henry, and they both hold the belief that no matter what, he comes first. I even truly feel like Emma would use the line to distant herself from her parents, or more accurately, her emotions where her parents are concerned--using it as a control barrier so she can process things at her own pace. And Regina would do the same, especially if it meant locking Cora in place like she had prior in sending her to Wonderland.
> 
> Rumpel and Belle just break your heart. You know he wants to do right by her, and her by him. But there actions, or perhaps their perspectives on what is right, are just off. Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, what you have to offer isn't good for them. That's a very hard truth I have learned first hand.
> 
> And hey! Woah! Who the hell is the dude squatting in Emma's Boston apartment?? ;)


	34. Between Two Queens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm placing a warning on this chapter, and my story, for here on out. 
> 
> I firmly believe in character development. I also believe all things have to be earned, that proper tension is fueled by the ways characters progress. You may not like someone, you may not enjoy whatever I imply or outright state, and you may very well get put off by past, and future developments, I intend to reveal.
> 
> If that's not your thing, if you don't wish to ride this story out, then you may want to wait until the guts of these progressions are complete before picking this back up.
> 
> If, however, you're game for a good emotional journey with ups, downs, losses and sacrifices, then I say on to the next chapter!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “Are you sure we’re on the right course, your Highness,” asked Hook with a scowl as he stared out across the endless dark waters before them.

     For a man who has spent the majority of his life on the waves, he was deeply unsettled by the stillness he saw. Even in Neverland he had come across some form of life or another while sailing the great open blue.

     But here, all was silent, as if muted by, or cast out due to, an unnatural force.

     It crept a foreboding into his bones he couldn’t shake.

     “I assure you, dear Captain, we are,” Cora replied turning slightly to face the man standing at the wheel on deck behind her. “Shore is just ahead.”

     The dried out bean he’d stolen from the giant had restored itself gloriously in the trickle of water left at Lake Nostos. Traveling the whirlpool vortex had been treacherous, and once it had deposited them on grey churning depths, he had been left to the mercy of the witch’s magic to guide them forward.

     He didn’t like it one bit.

     “May I ask how, exactly, you are leading us to this _Storybrooke_?”

     Cora gave a dark chuckle. “By following Regina’s magic, of course.”

     The response from the Queen of Hearts soured his mood even further, making him feel more the fool with each passing hour as he further realized the predicament he had gotten himself into.

     They were sailing directly into the world of someone that had once held his life in deadly delicate fingers. Someone he had wronged for the foul creature standing aboard his vessel.

     He knew there would be repercussions for that betrayal.

     Her Majesty, the Evil Queen, may be nothing like her mother.

     But Hook feared her more.

 

**_Enchanted Forest - 29 years earlier_ **

 

_He made his ascent, black cloak concealing him, pot of food in hand._

_One of two faceless guard atop the steps shifted into his path, yelling, “Halt” as he neared his goal--blocking him from the entrance just ahead._

_Raising the small pot in hand, he remarked, “Food for the prisoner,” in explanation of his presence._

_But the guard didn’t buy it._

_“It’s not meal time,” the man stated, raising his weapon threateningly. “Who are you? Identify yourself, slave!”_

_Wrong thing to say to a Pirate._

_With a lunge he pushed the guard back into the nearby wall, raising his left arm and slamming his hook down into the man’s neck in a killing blow. He gurgled, blood spilling from the wound as his body sagged to the floor._

_The other guard, drawing his sword--rushed him--but it was all for not. Ducking under his poorly timed swing of the blade, he drew his sharp hook across the man’s unprotected lower belly, and gutted him, letting him collapse mercilessly on top of his dead comrade._

_“I’m no man’s slave,” he sneered at the dying fellow, pulling his cloak back to reveal his face. “I’m a Captain.”_

_Hair disarrayed, he yanked a set of keys from the guard’s belt and marched the rest of the way up the stairs. Reaching his destination, he opened the single cell door--high in this winding tower--to find the prize he was looking for._

_A woman--fair complected with dark auburn hair in a thin winter blue dress--shifted forward from her spot on a dreary cot, and he smiled in relief. “You must be Belle.”_

_Quickly shutting the cell door behind him, he strode towards her but stopped just a few paces shy of reaching her as she spoke._

_“The Queen sent you, didn’t she.” Raising her chin, the woman stated her belief in the reason for his surprised presence. “She wants you to kill me.”_

_“I’m not here to kill you love,” he dismissed, taking the last remaining steps to kneel before her and the cot. “I’m here to rescue you,” he clarified, reaching down to undo one of the shackles keeping her tethered to the small bed._

_“Rescue me,” she questioned with a frown, watching his actions intently. “Who are you?”_

_Lifting his head up, he clasped her small hands between his calloused right. “A friend.”_

_The poor creature was rightly confused as she watched him take the small lock pick he had used on the ankle shackle to dislodge the other restraint on her right wrist, but this was no place to sit and get acquainted._

_“We haven’t much time,” he informed her, pulling the shackle off, and moving to the third. “Your father’s life is in danger.”_

_“My father?”_

_“He’s being attacked by the very same monster who stole you away from your family in the first place.”_

_The girl chuckled in disbelief at his words while he removed the last confinement holding her in place._

_“Rumpelstiltskin?”_

_“The Dark one,” he confirmed, brow drawn down in concern. “He must be stopped,” he said, standing, pulling her up with him. “You’ve spent more time with him than anyone. There are rumors,” he whispered, leaning closer, “of a magical weapon that has the power to kill him.”_

_The woman shook her head. “N-no. Let me talk to him,” she requested, her words confusing him. “He’s not a monster.”_

_“Belle, your father’s life hangs in the balance. I need to know where that weapon is,” he pleaded. “Where do I find it?”_

_But she just shook her head again. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I have no idea how t-to,” she stuttered, growing more distressed with each passing second, “how to kill Rumpelstiltskin!”_

_He leaned back with a frown. “You don’t?”_

_“No. Nor would I!”_

_“Hmmm,” he murmured, realizing this visit was a wasted endeavor._

_At her perplexed look, a roguish smile spread across his face and he reared back, drawing his right arm across his body before letting it fly back to slap her hard across the face, knocking the startled woman unconscious._

_“So pretty,” he sighed in remorse as she collapsed back onto her cot. “And yet so useless.”_

_Leaning over her, he raised his left arm up--hook gleaming in the torch light surrounding him--and swung deathly across her....._

_Only to feel nothing but air._

_Startled, he pulled the severed stub of his left forearm up, finding--unexpectedly--his famed hook missing._

_“No, not useless,” a smokey voice countered from behind him._

_Turning, he met twinkling--molten--brown eyes set within regal features._

_“She’s a valuable chess piece,” revealed the dark feminine stranger--her tight bejeweled dress, and long locks captured in a updo, giving state to her identity._

_Spotting his hook held delicately in one of her refined hands as she glided further into the room, he snarked, “Do I look like I’m playing a game of chess?”_

_The titillating creature slammed the cell door shut in response, trapping him within the cell._

_“My hook, please,” he asked, gesturing towards her possession of it._

_But she only drew it closer to her body, raising her head in defiance of his request. “No.”_

_Brow twitching in irritation, he started towards her, body tensing in intimidation. “The asking was me being a gentleman.”_

_She was only amused, however, by his advancement._

_Leaning her right hand upon the wall by the door, blocking the only exit with her body, she raised his treasured hook in her left hand, and toyingly replied, “Is that anyway to address a Queen?”_

 

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Drawn from his thoughts by the distant sound of a bell, the undercurrent of displeasure and worry within him grew tenfold as they finally spotted dim lights in the fading darkness. There, like a rising--looming--shadow, sat a small unassuming town--pillars of her docks set deep in the waves rocking them unsteadily.

     “It’s rather...quaint, for a kingdom, isn’t it,” he couldn’t help but joke, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety.

     “Looks can be deceiving,” Cora murmured, her mouth drawn and pinched in observation.

     “Perhaps,” he murmured. Slowing his ship as they drew closer, he said, “I believe it’s time to cast that spell you mentioned, love, before we sail into sight.”

     Humming in agreement, Cora took a deep breath, focusing on the magic that seemed to flow around the nearing town, and then flicked her wrist. The entire ship shimmered for a second, before returning to its normal state--the only noticeable effect to the spell she had cast being the charged air that clung like mist to them.

     “It is done,” she stated, clasping her hands together in anticipation. “Bring us ashore as quickly as possible, Captain. We don’t want to draw any undue attention.”

     “No worries, your Majesty,” he replied, his chest tightening the further inland they reached. “We’ll pass as silent as an insect skimming ahead of the bow.”

     “Good.” Cora’s eyes began to twinkle, much like her daughter’s once had, and the same kind of threatening smile spread across her face. “I want our visit, after all, to be a surprise.”

 _One_ , he thought with a sinking stomach, _the Queen will make him pay dearly for._

 

*****

 

     Across town, disturbed from her sleep by another nightmare, Regina stood lost in thought at the windows in her bedroom--disappearing moonlight casting across her in muted darkness--recalling the last time she, her mother, and Killian Jones, had crossed paths.

 

**_Enchanted Forest - 29 years earlier_ **

 

_She stood facing the disheveled man who had snuck his way past her defences to reach Belle locked up here in the highest tower of her palace. He was ruggedly handsome, his eyes wild with a touch of madness, and his demeanor was charming with a hint of deadly intensity._

_The attraction between them was instant._

_“Is that anyway to address a Queen,” she questioned coyly, taunting him with his hook as she held it up in hand. “Even a Pirate should have better manners than that.”_

_His eyes narrowed at the title, and she moved towards him, slowly circling him as she answered his unspoken query._

_“Yes, I know who you are,” her gaze sweeping over him, “Captain.” As he shifted his head to follow her, she explained, “I know why you came here from Neverland, and I know all about the crocodile you wish to skin.”_

_“Then you’ll also know I’ll stop at nothing,” he replied as she came to stand in front of him once more._

_“So dedicated,” she hummed in appreciation. “And resourceful. No one has been able to fight their way past my defenses before.” Leaning forward, her tone dropping, she informed him like a wayward child, “Belle can’t help you kill Rumplestiltskin, Hook.” Eyes meeting, “But I can...if you do something for me.”_

_Snagging him with his own hook by the collar of his vest, she drew him closer, their bodies just inches apart as their predatory stare continued take each other in._

_A seductive smile tugging at her lips, she asked him casually, “Care to join me for a drink,” and felt her insides flutter when a familiar gleam entered his eyes._

_Minutes later, with a wave of her hand, they were settled in her private study sharing goblets of wine--his hook still in hand._

_“Things are about to change in this world,” she shared, handing him his drink, their fingers deliberately brushing. “Radically.” Turning, her own goblet gripped tightly, she gestured off into her envisioned future--heels clicking on stone as she strode a few steps away from the Captain. “I have plans to enact a curse that will take everyone to a far off land.”_

_“How will that help me,” he wondered, watching her every move._

_“This new realm,” she answered, slowly shifting back to face him, “is a land without magic. One where the Dark One will be stripped of his powers.” She retraced her steps, moving into his personal space, “So there will be no need of any magical weapons to kill him.”_

_Raising his hook between them, placing it menacingly under his chin to bring his eyes up from where they lingered on her body, she drew his close and husked across his lips, “You can do it,” eyes glittering with dark desire, “with a mere flick,” she drew his hook across his throat, just a hair’s breadth from scratching the skin, “of your wrist.”_

_Her entire body pulsed, tensing as he leaned closer, his own eyes going black as he asked, “Tell me what I have to do.”_

_If this situation wasn’t emotionally dire to her, she would have taken him right then and there. The magic that thrummed in her veins, along with her own twisted needs, begged her to do so._

_But his words, like a cold splash of water, reminded her the reason for his presence in the first place._

_Hook dropping away, she pivoted and distanced herself from him, eyes casting to the floor. “There’s one person I don’t want following me to this land,” she said. “You’re to see to it that doesn’t happen.”_

_“Assassination?” She heard the surprise in his tone, and it made her hesitate._

_All killers, on some level, had their own personal code of conduct--even Pirates--and she was concerned her request would be dismissed due to it._

_“Who is it you want me to dispose of,” the curious Captain asked._

_Turning to face him, gauging his reaction intently, she replied, “My mother.”_

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     She had assumed, when he only raised a brow in response, that her worry had been baseless, as half a mark later she was placing his hook back onto his left wrist, explaining to him that it had been enchanted--allowing him to remove a heart, only once, from someone’s chest. The malevolence that had flashed across his eyes had assuaged any kind of remorse she was feeling in that moment in asking someone to kill Cora.

     Of course, he possessed the gall to verbally ponder what the woman had done to warrant such brutality, but she had dismissed his inquisitiveness harshly, making it clear that was her business and his was to kill her and bring the body back. Retrieving Jefferson’s hat, as at that time it was solely in her possession, she had detailed Cora’s whereabouts and how the magic of the hat works.

     With a parting--devilish--look, Hook had jumped into the portal to Wonderland with one of the guards he had killed, a promise on his lips that he would return with her mother just as she requested--and he had indeed delivered.

     Now though, as she watched the sun slowly begin to rise over Storybrooke, she had to wonder what had occurred while he was there, because he had obviously deceived her--and was now joined at the hip with the one person she feared most.

    The thought had once crossed her mind that they were alike, even sharing in a few...personal delights, upon his return. But he had left the Enchanted Forest shortly after, and she had forgot to question his absence once the curse had been cast.

     “We’ll have much to discuss,” she murmured, eyes resting on the docks in the distance, “Captain.”

 

*****

 

     An itch in his fingertips, Hook watched from his perch on the side of his deck as the sun began its ascent, splashing soft light across the sleepy town around them. He was restless, far too many emotions keeping him from slumber. He debated drinking himself into oblivion, but thought better of it when Cora refused to rest herself.

     “Quit fidgeting,” the older woman chided him sharply, pulling him from the rising rays to where she stood at the wheel working on a blank piece of parchment.

     Magic swirled around her fingertips as she slowly mapped out the town, using _‘hotspots’_ as she had called them, to trace the design built into the curse her daughter had cast. He wondered why she had need of such a thing if the Evil Queen and her son were all that she was after.

     Maps were for finding treasure, after all.

     “Sorry,” he replied without meaning it, shifting his attention back to the sights of this new world.

     “You are anxious,” she stated, turning away from her work to eye him curiously. “Why is that?”

     “I guess you can say I'm not one for hiding in plain sight,” he bit back.

     “The invisibility cloak is a simple spell, but an efficient one,” she reminded him, returning to her map. “So long as you do nothing foolish, no one will know we are here until we are ready to reveal ourselves.”

     Cora, undoubtedly, had confidence in her words, and her magic.

     Hook, however, did not.

 

*****

 

     Travel bag packed with the fewest items required, Rumpelstiltskin left his shop just as the sun filled the streets of Storybrooke, and began his walk across town to the Sheriff’s office. He knew Miss Swan was not an early riser, but he had a feeling she would be in relatively soon with Cora and Hook on the fringes of their shared concerns.

     Much like her parents, she was a restless spirit, and so long as there was trouble afoot, she would be out and about doing whatever was necessary to keep that said trouble at bay. At this hour, he was hoping to catch her at the station alone. There was no need of an audience for the discussion they were about to have.

     Drawing close to the library, he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the building, his feet slowing as he debated stopping in to visit with Belle. His heart stuttered when the said woman opened the doors to the building...but practically stopped as Ruby Lucas followed just a step behind her out onto the street.

     Teeth gnashing, his skin prickling with jealousy, he quickly distanced himself by turning down a side alley, coming to stop by a building still casting shadow. He waited them out, unwilling to watch the woman he loved light up under the attention of someone else, before moving into the street once more, and finishing his trek to his destination with renewed determination.

 

*****

 

     “You’re late,” Regina grumbled as Emma Swan excited her Sheriff’s squad car and staggered towards her in the early morning light.

     “Sorry, your Majesty,” the blond snarked, reaching the brunette standing in front of her mausoleum. “Got a call at the ass crack of dawn. From a...Masterson? Anyway, seems someone broke into the cannery last night and stole a few things.”

     Regina’s brow furrowed at the news. “Like what?”

     Taking a long sip of her coffee, still trying to shake off the sleep and ever present irritation from her body, the younger woman replied, “A long wool coat, cap and overalls.” She shrugged. “It’s petty theft, no sign of forced entry, and the odds of recovering them are slim.” Nodding towards the weathered sanctuary behind the other woman, she queried, “So, you gonna show me your dungeon or what?”

     “It’s a vault, not a dungeon,” Regina corrected, turning and opening the door, entering the cool space with Emma close behind.

     “That’s not what Henry said,” the Sheriff replied, raising a brow as she leaned forward, hands planted on her father’s casket.

     Pausing, Regina locked eyes with her, voice turning firm. “Henry is never allowed back here, understood?” At the blond’s questioning nod, she returned to the task at hand, pushing as she added, “My vault is no place for him, nor any outsider for that matter.”

     She didn’t miss the muttered _‘woah’_ that escaped Emma as the secret staircase was revealed.

     Gesturing towards it, she warned, “What’s down here is some of the most dangerous items, magic and non, to ever exist in our land. It is absolutely paramount, Emma, that you do _not_ touch a thing. Got it?”

     “Got it,” Emma echoed, her brow drawn down in apprehension.

     Drawing in a deep breath, Regina toed the first step, and slowly began her descent down, firmly aware of the body heat coming off the woman behind her as cool dry air caressed their faces. No one, since the other land, had been down in her vault with her, and Regina felt dread grip her as she imagined the dozen of ways this encounter with Emma could go.

     She was about to reveal a piece of herself that few shared knowledge of, and it could very well make or break the tentative relationship they had going on at the moment.

     But it had to be done.

     There was no way around it.

     With Cora and Hook likely drawing closer, she needed to use every magical tool at her disposal to protect them all, and Emma Swan--daughter of true love--at the moment, was the most powerful of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first saw the episode where the Evil Queen met Captain Hook, I instantly thought they had great chemistry together. Both dark and menacing, it was very easy for me to imagine a mutual attraction, respect, and even affection between the two. I don't believe them to be true loves, as I do feel Milah was Hook's, but kindred spirits? Absolutely.
> 
> There is an obvious difference developing between Regina and Rumpel's tactics where people are concerned. The Dark One used to make subtle deals where you never really knew his intent. In Storybrooke, however, especially with Hook and Cora's arrival, he's being more direct--outright manipulating and blackmailing whoever he needs to get what he wants.
> 
> Regina, however, is of the mindset that cooperation is key. When necessary, she'll do things alone, but why risk it when you have such potential "chess" pieces at your disposal? Besides, she's still got Henry's love in mind and deep in her core there is nothing she wants more than to have his approval and devotion.


	35. Burnt Sugar and Decay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog sitting for four days really screwed with my schedule. So sorry this is being posted later than planned. I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Keeping to the woodline, a figure clad in dark leather with a hood, painfully made its way towards the cemetery--a short sword gripped tightly in leather gloved hands. Passing through the early fall foliage, they came to an abrupt halt when a smell caught their attention. Raising their head, sniffing the wind as it blew by, the cloaked being suddenly hunched and began violently coughing, gagging to the point of retching.

     Startled by the unexpected wave of nausea, blue eyes peered out intently from the depths of the hood concealing their face, eyes darting about the forest, looking for something unwanted. Catching a glimmer nearby like dew on a spider web, they approached the unnatural distortion, realizing it was just meters from sandy ocean banks.

     Reaching out, the hooded figure hissed as a gloved hand passed through the distortion, realizing it was a jagged--gaping--hole in a magical wall. Eyes trailing from it to the woodland floor, they noted two sets of footprints making their way--exploratorily--towards town. The smell even more pungent here, the figure shook their head as another bout of sickness overcame them once more, and they stumbled back from the magical force field.

     Turning the direction they had been heading, the figure gripped their sword more tightly and took off at an awkward, gangly run--their previous excursion forgotten in light of this discovery.

 

*****

 

     “You weren’t kidding, were you,” Emma mumbled as her and Regina reached the lower depths of her vault, revealing a myriad of items that Indiana Jones would have been giddy to finding in some abandoned ancient tomb.

     A shiver running up her spine, she spotted medieval relics, bottles of unpronounceable things, and shelving upon shelving of books, chests, and an entire wall of decorative slots filling the surprisingly well kept crypt.

     “Who was your decorator, Madam Mim,” she asked, following Regina to a stand stacked with used candles and old tomes.

     The older woman snorted, rolling her eyes. “That impish old hag? I think not.”

     Emma raised a brow.  _ If Mim was real, does that mean... _ “Merlin then?”

     Shaking her head with a sigh and moving the books back to their place on one of the shelves, the brunette replied, “He was before me, dear, and even if we had met, I wouldn’t recall. He moves backward through time, if you recall. For all I know, he could be an infant in another realm just coming to being.”

     Emma scrunched her nose as she digested that bit of information. “Uhh...ok.”

     She may have spent many nights reading in closed libraries to stay out of cold, wet, winters when on her own, but she had never dived into the old legends and fairy tales beyond what Disney offered. 

     Pausing in her tidying, Regina eyed Emma for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “I realize this is a lot to take in, especially for someone who is--inarguably--an outsider to our world.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “I don’t expect you to adjust right away, Emma, and neither should anyone else. Magic,” she pulled a book off a shelf and displayed it, “is the very reason we exist in the first place. Without it, we--including you--would be nothing more than stories in a book.”

     “What about Henry,” she asked, setting her coffee down, crossing her arms as she watched Regina retrieve a few more items before returning to the work-stand she was pressed against.

     Shoulders hunching apprehensively, brown orbs flickered her way before focusing on arranging the items she had gathered accordingly. “No. Henry is not a product of magic, nor of the Enchanted Forest. He is a child of this realm.”

     “So, if the curse had broken in a way in which everyone would be returned--,” Emma started.

     “He would not depart with us,” Regina cut in softly, the truth of that reality weighing heavily upon her. She took in a deep, shuddering breath to try and shake that oppression off. “In fact, he wouldn’t remember us at all.”

     Emma tried to wrap her mind around it as her heart squeezed in worry.

     The idea of Henry not knowing who she is, was, of not having a place in this world, in being...

     “Just a lost lonely boy,” she whispered, air rushing out of her at the flood of memories from her own childhood. “Alone in the world?”

     Regina met her disturbed gaze, a multitude of fears and old pains flashing physically between them, unexpectedly flooding their veins. It was an unintentional sharing, but magic was emotion, and at that moment they were both pulsing with feelings in need of balance.

     Taking in another steadying breath, shaking off the entwining trying to develop between them, the brunette cleared her throat and opened one the books before her. “I would never let that happen.”

     And Emma believed her.

     Every fiber of her being screamed that she had to.

     Running jittery fingers through her hair, trying to shake off whatever it was that had her feeling all tingly, the blonde leaned closer to peer at the book Regina was thumbing through, unable to make out the symbols and words passing by.

     “So, what exactly are we doing down here,” she finally asked, realizing she hadn’t questioned the woman last night when she had agreed to meet her here this morning. She had just assumed they would be working on a solution for Cora and Hook, but the details hadn’t mattered until now.

     “Scheming,” the older woman murmured, a twinkle in her eye as the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

     “Scheming,” she echoed questioningly.

     “Mmhhhmm,” Regina hummed, finding a page she obviously liked, a mischievous smile tugging across her face. “We have a rat and a witch to trap, after all.”

     Humored at her words, Emma glanced at the page Regina was gently thumbing, green eyes curiously flickering between her companion’s expressive face, and the book.

     “Roald Dahl was one of my favorite growing up,” she shared softly, turning her gaze away, a bit embarrassed to share such a detail with the other woman. But there had just been something about the way she looked, at the buzzing between them...

     “Henry enjoyed The Twits,” the brunette replied without missing a beat. “I myself was much more fond of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Amused brown orbs raised to meet forest green. “And The Witches, of course.”

     “Of course,” Emma mimicked, a playful smile gracing across her own lips.

 

*****

 

     Displeased to find the Sheriff’s station unmanned, Rumpelstiltskin made his towards Town Hall. He didn’t want to see his former protege after their last encounter so soon, but he was suspicious about what she was up to.

     Regina was not one to sit idle.

     Though he hadn’t been invited, nor made an effort to participate in the recent meetings between the townspeople and the former rulers of the White Kingdom, he was privy to their happenings, and the Evil Queen’s continued participation was...unsettling.

     He had thought it a nice little twist of the karmic knife when she had adopted the savior’s son. She may have been a selfless--meek--child, but Regina was a selfish hardened woman not prone to sharing, and he had assumed a rift would develop between the linked nemesis.

     Obviously an unknown factor had curtailed that.

     Was it Miss Swan?

     Did the savior and Regina possess a bond he had not accounted for?

     Premonitions of the future were not absolute, no matter how far down the threads of time he could perceive. A minute change could ripple out, not only shifting a future event, but vaporize its entire existence--like snipping a thread on the ever weaving fabric of fate. 

     By now he had expected all out war between the rival parties, a necessary distraction that would allow him to set out into this land without magic and find his son--bringing Baelfire back to a new kingdom to begin again.

     The Evil Queen’s unexpected manipulations had foiled his plans, and he was now moving things into motion as he went along.

     It felt like the Enchanted Forest all over again. Another bargain, another deceit, another collected item--all along the process of reuniting with his family and lording as the Dark One once more.

     A piece of him, the one that still held onto memories of being a mere man, mourned the resurgence of a life he had wanted gone.

 

*****

 

     So it turns out spell building is not as fun as Practical Magic makes it out to be. Yeah, there is a lot of ingredient mixing, and repeating ritualistic phrases in a foreign language she had zero interest in learning, but alas, no margaritas or hippie aunts to help pass the time.

     Suffice it to say, Emma was fucking bored.

     And Regina knew it.

     With a slam of the book she had been reading from, drawing Emma back from her daydreaming over said movie, she tossed the tome onto a nearby table and glared at the blond.

     “Henry at least has the decency to pretend to be paying attention, unlike you, Miss Swan.”

     She sighed and ran a hand over her face, unwilling to get into an argument with the brunette.

     “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just,” she shrugged, getting up from the stool she had been resting on to pace the vault, “I’m not like you, Regina. I don’t have the patience, nor interest in creating and casting spells.”

     “Not outside of video games you mean,” the woman snarked back. “This is reality, Emma,” she said, speaking to her as if she were dense. “Not some made up world to waste away your time in. I would have thought you, of anyone, would appreciate what is very much apart of  _ who _ you are.”

     The Sheriff’s brow furrowed. “Who I am?”

     Regina rolled her eyes. “Yes, Sheriff, who you are as a wielder of magic.”

     The blonde grimaced. “I already told you, Regina, I’m no Hermione Granger.”

     “And apparently you don’t want to be.”

     Ok, so Regina was a bit more than irked by her.

     “Why does it matter,” she asked, gesturing towards the little cauldron before them that was apart of some weird-ass chemistry set the brunette had assembled while she worked. “Is the spell ready?”

     “Almost,” Regina gritted out, hackles rising at her words. “Give me your hand,’’ she commanded, and Emma did so, though hesitantly.

     She regretted it instantly when the former Mayor pulled a long needle from out of her sleeve and pricked the top pads of the three longest fingers on her right hand. She tried to pull back with a dismayed, “Hey,” but Regina held on until each one dropped three drops of blood into the smoldering pot.

     “What the fuck, Regina,” she snapped, breaking free of the brunette’s hold, shoving her fingers into her mouth to sooth them.

     “You defeated my mother once with your light magic,” explained the Queen without remorse, eyes riveted to the cauldron, “it stands to reason your magic would be the strongest to bind the spell with then.”

     “You couldn’t have asked,” Emma countered, voice rising.

_      Goddamn those little pricks hurt! _

     Regina only shrugged.

     “I’m done,” the blond bit out, taking a handkerchief from her jacket and wrapping it around her fingers. “You finish doing whatever the hell we were even doing here. I’m going to patrol, like a Sheriff  _ should _ , to make sure Cora and Hook haven’t made landfall without us knowing.”

     Just as she was about to make a belittling remark back, Regina sensed something approaching her vault, and her back immediately straightened, eyes narrowing at the faint hint of magic drawing closer.

     Emma noticed the change and narrowed her eyes at her son’s mother.

     “What,” she asked, still irritated. “What is it?”

     “Someone’s coming,” replied the brunette, lifting her head in regal manner to sniff the air faintly. “Someone...or something, of magic.”

     Emma felt her heart constrict for a beat, before it began to accelerate its pace, adrenaline flooding her veins.

     The faintest creak of a door being moved caught their attention, and Emma removed her gun from its holster, placing herself between Regina and the stairwell just feet away. Glancing back at the former Mayor, she gave the silent command to stay put, before moving slowly toward the stone steps.

     A smell, like burnt sugar, caught her off guard, tickling her nose.

     Backpedaling quickly, the blonde managed to shove her face into sleeve of her jacket just in time to mostly smother the sound of a sneeze as it overcame her. Another one, then a third sneeze followed, before she was able to lift her head--settling watery green eyes on questioning brown.

     “What is that smell,” she asked in a whisper, trying to sniffle without making any more noises.

     “You can smell that,” Regina asked curiously, evidently surprised by the fact. “It’s magic, fairy magic, to be precise.”

     Emma relaxed just a smidge at the response.

     “So who or...whatever is up there is Blue’s doing?”

     At the brunette's nod, Emma returned a little more confidently to the stairwell and waited until she heard booted steps slowly coming down before rounding the corner with her gun raised.

     “Stop right there,” she ordered, warily eyeing the shadowed figure carrying a sword.

     “Emma,” asked a surprised familiar voice.

     The blond’s arm dropped along with the hood of the leather clad intruder. “August?”

     Feeling the hairs rise on the back of her neck, Emma turned her head to find Regina just inches behind her, drawn to the stairwell by her words.

     “Step away from her, Emma,” Pinocchio said, pulling her attention back to him as he eyed the Queen intently, bringing the sword in hand up threateningly. “I won’t let her hurt you.”

     “What?”

_      Hurt her? _

     An unexpected warmth flaring to life behind her, Emma shifted back around only to find a sneer on Regina’s face...and a fireball in her left palm.

     “What the fuck,” she gasped, slamming herself to the wall of the stairs, eyes wide in disbelief.

     “Drop it, driftwood,” the Queen growled, raising her palm menacingly. “Before I turn you into kindle.”

     Emma’s eyes bulged even wider at the insult, her gaze bouncing between the two.

     “Wow, rude much,” she whispered, receiving a glare from the brunette.

     “Please, he’s an imbecilic golem. He wouldn’t feel a thing.”

     Emma’s mouth gaped at that.

     “I’d like to see you try,” Pinocchio taunted.

     Rolling her eyes at his false bravado, Emma’s jaw snapped shut with a click.

     “Alright, that’s enough,” she said, pushing the sword in front of her aside while nudging Regina with her elbow to put her hand out.

     “He started it,” the other woman grumbled and Emma glared at her petulance.

     “What the hell are you doing here, August,” asked the Sheriff, holstering her gun as he hesitantly lowered his sword, Regina snuffing the fireball in hand out with the curl of her fingers.

_      A fireball. _

_      The woman had literally held a fucking fireball! _

     Henry had mentioned something about Regina tossing fire at the townsfolk while she was gone, but honestly, she had assumed he was bullshitting her.

     Shaking her thoughts away, she returned her attention to the traveling writer.

     “I was looking for the Queen,” he replied, taking a couple steps closer, revealing his still wooden face. “I found something in the forest,” his distrusting gaze darted to the brunette behind her, “something disturbing.”

     “What,” asked the former mayor, and Emma sighed at her hostile tone.

     “Magic, your majesty,” the biker sneered. “Dark, choking magic.”

     Emma frowned, goose pimples spreading across her skin. “August,” she asked softly, eyes darting between him and Regina, “what did it smell like?”

     “Like decay,” he replied, worry lacing his words.

     The blond paled at the response, reaching without thought to grip Regina’s arm tightly as fear seized her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.
> 
> I'm liking this idea that Rumpel realizes things are going to shit for him and returning to past behaviors is the only way he can cope. You would think that would be Regina, but I guess not.
> 
> I had no intentions of Emma and Regina bonding and flirting like they did over Roald Dahl. Honestly, I had previous scenes wrote up that had them doing a lot more arguing and painful revelations than...well...what got posted here. August's reveal was intended from early on, as his presence does bring out some more unwanted truths, not just for Emma, but Regina and Snow as well. I guess maybe then Emma and Regina will have things out a bit more...or go back to flirting. Who knows with these two.


	36. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend all. I hope you are safe and doing well :).
> 
> On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

“Do I have to go to school,” asked Henry, scuffing his shoes every couple of steps as he and Snow made their way towards Storybrooke Elementary. 

“Yep,” she replied with a cheerful smile, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’re suppose to get back to normal so...,” she gestured to the school in the distance, “this is our normal.”

The cool air and changing leaves reminded him of warm apple cider, harvest festivals, and scenic walks with his mother through the woods. 

Next to summer, fall was one of his favorite times of the year.

“But I’m a Prince, right,” he argued, jutting out his lower lip. He had seen Emma use it on more than one persuasive occasion. “Shouldn’t I be...tutored at home or something? Like, today would be riding lessons and that’s it?”

Snow laughed at him, charmed.

“You are a Prince,” she agreed. “Just as Emma is a princess...and so was Regina...” Her words trailed off, and he wondered how she felt about his mother after...everything.

“What was my mom like,” he asked unexpectedly, looking up at her curiously. “Before she....y’know.” His gaze turned down to his shoes, watching the leaves blow across the sidewalk. “Was she...nice?”

He heard his grandmother take in a deep breath, letting silence fall between them for a few beats before answering softly.

“Your mother was everything I had ever wanted in someone.”

His head snapped up in surprise, meeting her conflicted eyes as she continued. “She was kind, and loving, and open, and warm. Before...everything, Regina was the best stepmother I could have ever asked for, Henry.”

Silence overcame them once more, lost to his own thoughts and memories.

     As they neared the school, other children and parents chatting and rushing by, he stopped to look up at Snow.

     “My mom’s made a lot of mistakes.” He bit his lower lip, gathering his words. “And I’m still angry about how she hurt you, and Emma, and everyone else...but...she’s still my mom, y’know?” Snow nodded.

     If anyone could understand his mixed emotions concerning all they’ve experienced the last few days, it would be her, right?

     Shrugging, he gave an impish grin. “Maybe I should ask her about school.”

     Snow chuckled, squeezing his shoulders.

     “Do you really think your mother, former Mayor, would let you skip out on school?”

     He crinkled his nose as he thought about it for a second, then sighed and hung his head.

     “Uh huh, that’s what I thought.”

     With a sigh of her own, Snow nudged Henry towards the doors of the school. “Come on. The sooner we get in there, the faster the day goes by.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as Snow rubbed his shoulders affectionately.

  
*****

 

     “She’s here. I can’t believe she’s here,” was all the former Queen mumbled before swiftly turning back into the vault, dragging a still wide-eyed Emma along with her.

A bit put off by the response, August followed the pair hesitantly into the crypt, watching curiously as Regina came to a stop in front of a work stand with a steaming cauldron.

“Regina,” Emma asked anxiously, hands gripping the counter, facing the pot as well.

A second or two passed before the older woman nodded her head slowly.

“This will work,” she said, eyes meeting the Sheriff’s, flickering his way once before she turned to a nearby table, retrieving a piece of parchment.

“I don’t have time to write this spell out,” she explained. Resting the paper beside the pot. “So I’m going to need you,” her gaze returned to Emma, “to place your hand in the cauldron, letting the liquid cover your palm and fingers completely, then place your hand on this parchment--just like giving your fingerprints.”

The Princesses brow furrowed.

“Isn’t that hot,” she asked, gesturing to the cauldron.

The former Queen shook her head. “You’re just seeing the spell in its primitive form. At most, you’ll feel an intense sensation like a warm water. It’s perfectly safe, I promise.”

Watching Emma take a deep breath, rolling her sleeve up and reaching hesitantly towards the pot, August felt compelled to speak up.

“What kind of spell is that,” he questioned, drawing their attention.

“Praeligo,” the brunette replied, gesturing for Emma to do as she asked. “One my mother is quite familiar with, but I’ve added a special twist.”

His curiosity piqued, August stepped closer, watching as Emma submerged her hand into the pot, a startled look crossing her face.

Hazel darted towards brown, an odd energy passing between them, before Emma took another breath, and pulled her hand slowly up out of the cauldron.

“Now,” Regina said, catching Emma’s attention, “before you place it on this paper, I need you to recall your last encounter with my mother. I need you to  _ feel  _ whatever emotions you were feeling before that blast knocked you both on your feet. Do you understand?” 

The Sheriff nodded, face going hard as he and the former Queen watched her recall the experience. 

_ Emma had met the Queen’s mother? _

__ _ Since when? _

__ _ What had he missed while he was hiding out? _

A lot, he realized, if the interaction between the Evil Queen and Savior was anything to go by.

“Got it,” the brunette asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Noting the glow surrounding Emma’s hand as the blond nodded again, he stared--riveted--as she leaned forward and carefully placed her hand onto the paper.

The parchment suddenly flashed a bright white, stunning him and Emma both--filling the air around them with the scent of cinnamon and spring rain.

Fascinated, he found himself stepping closer as Emma pulled her hand up from the paper at the Queen’s request, a shimmering hand print left in wake.

“Woah,” he and the blond muttered in disbelief.

The former Queen, obviously pleased, smiled at the result.

“Praeligo,” he voiced, clearing his throat to gain the former Queen’s attention while Emma wiped her hand clean. “Isn’t that latin for  _ ‘wrap up’ _ or  _ ‘bind’ _ ?”

The edgy woman eyed him warily before nodding. “Yes.” Eyes meeting the blond’s again like he was a nuisance, she further added, “Or to gag, if you want to be more precise.”

“Is that what it’s going to do to Cora,” asked Emma, nodding towards the paper Regina was folding and placing in her pocket.

“That’s the intention,” the brunette replied.

“Why do you need it,” he wondered, blue eyes darting between the two. “Don’t you already know the spell? Isn’t  _ your _ magic strong enough?”

The former Queen paused in sealing up the cauldron, meeting August’ inquisitive gaze.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“How are you here,” she asked unexpectedly--tone taking on that of her prior persona.

“What?”

Emma’s own questioning gaze darted between them.

“You were a mere boy when I cast my curse,” she said, heels clicking as she advanced on him, making him backpedal towards the steps. “And yet, now, you stand before me a man. Well,” her eyebrow raised as she glanced over him, “a man sized puppet, at the very least. How?”

     August’s eyes immediately flicked to Emma who was moving towards them now, her head tilted in thought.

_      Shit. _

_      He hadn’t been expecting this.  _

     “I came through the wardrobe,” he replied. “The same one Emma did. Just before her, actually.”

     Regina raised an elegant finger, tapping her lips in thought. “You mean to tell me, that Snow White and Prince Charming entrusted the safety of their hour old daughter to another child?”

_      Shit. _

_      Shit! _

     “Is this really important, right now,” he countered, trying to redirect the conversation, moving closer to the steps. “If your mother, the...Queen of Hearts, is it? If she is here in Storybrooke, obviously we have bigger issues.”

“My mother is a clever woman biding her time,” the Evil Queen dismissed, not buying his tactic. “Why are you being evasive, hmm?”

“August,” Emma drew his attention, “what aren’t you telling me?”

     Frustrated, he gripped the sword he held, fingers flexing against the pommel.

_      He couldn’t lie. _

_      Not in this state. _

     “Emma,” he started, trying to figure out a clever way with the truth...but he was coming up short. Finally, realizing he could either just cut out or tell the truth.

_      What should he do? _

_      What would Emma want him to do? _

     He sighed.

     He knew.

     Papa always said the truth was always harder when it was about you.

     “No, your parents didn’t send me.”

     “Then how did you get here, August,” Emma asked, coming to stand beside the Queen, her body tensing, waves of distrust and...magic?  _ (well that’s curious) _ ...coming off of her.

     “My papa,” he explained. “Geppetto. He made a deal with the Blue Fairy.” Emma’s brows raised at that, but the Queen remained stone faced. “In exchange for creating the wardrobe...I-I would be sent through with Emma.”

     “Wait,” the blond cut in, eyes growing hard as her temper started to rise. “Are you telling me the Blue Fairy lied to my parents...because of you.”

     For once, August kept his mouth shut.

     And simply nodded.

     “So...one, or...both of my parents could have escaped with me?”

     The realization of hope and loss crossing Emma’s face at once, followed by a flicker of hurt before being replaced with anger, broke August’s heart.

     “I’m so sorry, Emma,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together, begging for understanding. “You weren’t suppose to come yet. Your mother was suppose to escape, still pregnant with you, before she,” he pointed at the former Queen, “finished casting her curse.”

     “So where were you after,” Emma snapped, eyes blazing. “When I was being passed around from foster home to foster home. Why weren’t you with me? IF you were suppose to protect me,  _ Pinocchio _ , where the  _ hell _ were you?”

     Helpless, August shook his head.

     “I was seven years old, Emma. I wasn’t capable of taking care of a baby. I was barely human myself.”

     “So you left her,” Regina stated, and August felt the blow of her words as if they were physical. 

     “I was always looking out,” he tried to defend, though he knew how that sounded even to his own ears.

     “What does that mean,” Emma gritted out.

     When their gazes met, he knew--by the way here eyes bulged and she paled again--that his other secret was exposed.

     She shoved past him, hard, knocking him off balance, not looking back once as her feet hit the stairs in a run.

_      Well, at least she didn’t punch me. _

     Regaining his footing, he found the Evil Queen eyeing him as if he was manure on her boots.

     His breath caught when she leaned into his personal space, eyes burning with a visible fire that made him tremble.

     “I suggest you go back to papa,  _ puppet _ ,” she sneered, “before I turn you into a chair.”

     He didn’t have to be told twice.

     Hobbling up the steps, he knew now the only magic he was going to be to get his hands on to cure him was from the Blue Fairy.

     And he trusted her even less than the Evil Queen.

 

*****

 

     Rumpel let the doors to town hall slam close behind him in frustration.

It appeared Regina, even as former Mayor, was not to be found in the establishment.

The idiotic council had tried to give him a pre-emptive inquisition, disrupting his search. It had taken far more patience than he normally possessed to remove himself without just killing the lot.

They were useless against Cora, and even more so against himself.

But a necessity to Storybrooke’s infrastructure, for the time being.

“Where are you, dearie,” he murmured, pondering.

Just as he was about to cast a simple tracking spell to sniff her or the savior out, he felt a tingle crawl up his spine, a disturbing warning that something...or someone magical, has trespassed onto one of his protected sites in town.

His heart thumped with trepidation, wondering if it was Regina and Miss Swan...or the pirate and his once lover.

If Cora and the leather clad letch have indeed arrived...then they were up to something more than just seeking Regina out.

They were hunting.

Conflicted, thoughts of Baelfire and Belle running through this mind, Rumpel knew he had to consider his next actions very, very, carefully.

Reaching into his coat pocket, eyes scanning the streets and buildings around him, he paused for a few more contemplative seconds, before dialing a familiar number.

_ “Storybrooke Elementary, this is Lady Tremaine speaking, how can I help you?” _

“Bonjour, Madonna,” he greeted with false cheeriness. “Est Marie Margaret aujourd’hui?”

_ “Monsieur Rumpelstiltskin! Oui, elle travaille aujourd’hui.” _

“Good,” he replied, turning towards the school. “Very good. I’ll be seeing you shortly then, dearie.”

With the click of his phone shutting, his decision had been made.

If he could not find the daughter, then he would visit her mother and have the savior brought to him. 

Time was now of the essence.

*****

Exiting her family mausoleum minutes after the wooded dullard had left, Regina was unhappy to find the Sheriff’s cruiser, and Emma, gone as well.

“Dammit,” she growled in frustration.

     They didn’t have time for emotional break downs right now.

_      Granted _ , she argued with herself, I had my _  own little tantrum just a few days earlier...but still.... _

     Biting her lip, pacing in front of her car, eyes scanning the surrounding area warily, she suddenly stopped and pulled her cell phone out...staring at it until she took a deep breath and hit a familiar number on speed dial.

     It only took two rings before her call was answered.

_      “Storybrooke Animal Shelter, this is David speaking, how can I help you?” _

     “I need you to find your daughter,” she said, not wasting time on pleasantries.

     There was a pause as the Shepherd absorbed her words.

     Then he asked,  _ “What’s happened?” _

     And so she told him.

     Everything from Cora and Hooks assumed arrival to Pinocchio's revelation and Emma’s displeasing response.

     Barely five minutes later she was making her way towards Granny’s Diner where they agreed to meet...after he collected his wayward daughter.

*****

On the outskirts of Storybrooke, near an old paved road deep in the woods not far off from a cabin, Killian Jones dug the shovel he had been lugging around into soft forest soil for the fourth time that morning.

     “Tell me, your Majesty,” he asked as he paused to wipe sweat from his brow under the cap he wore. “Are you sure  _ this _ is the spot? Perhaps your magic is...a bit off.”

     “Just keep digging,” gritted the older woman, raising her nose at him and the dense foliage surrounding them. She despised being out in nature like this. “The map, nor my magic are wrong. Rumpel’s just...clever.”

     “Well, he is the Dark One,” he reasoned with disdain, jamming his shovel into the shallow hole and tossing dirt aside with a little more frustrated force.   

     “Indeed he is,” Cora agreed, that all too familiar gleam entering her maniacal eyes, “And like all prior Dark Ones, he has a weakness.”

     It was those words, and her little reveal to him earlier this morning, that reminded him why he was out here doing her bidding once again.

The weapon he had longed sought was indeed real...and they were going to find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Too bad for August, but keeping secrets just doesn't go well...for anyone.
> 
> And Emma was right to react the way she did. I mean, I might have decked him one, but I think she's emotionally conflicted where he is concerned. Plus, Regina was there, and I think Emma would be a bit self conscious at the moment to act out in front of her.
> 
> The Blue Fairy better watch out, her scheming self righteous ways are going to eventually catch up to her.
> 
> Rumpel and Regina, playing with the family tree. But who has good intentions? I'll guess we'll see.


	37. Anxious Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend all! I hope you are well :). 
> 
> I had intended for this chapter to be much larger, but once I realized how big it was, I decided to cut it. I'll get the next part up faster than average, but in the meantime, enjoy.
> 
> On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Reul Ghorm stepped out of the fairy convent, basking in the warmth of the early morning fall sun as it settled across her and the church grounds. Though this realm wasn’t the Enchanted Forest--didn’t have the same sense of magic, colors, or even the same kind of smell--it still held its own special kind of appeal.

     A smile tugging at her lips, the petite brunette started across the well maintained lawn towards one of the outlying buildings.

     With the curse broken, and magic brought to this land from their own, it was time once more to resume her duties.

     Their numbers--like a species bordering on extinct--were low, but the needs of the newly awakened populace were high. There was no way to keep up with the number of wishes being whispered each night. Fairy dust was still absent for the moment. Their cursed personas, archaic as they were, offered little recourse.

     Truly, the Evil Queen could have done no more to disable her kind--short of exterminating them completely.

     For all tense and purposes, they were useless.

     They had no defenses, no unity, and no ruler.

     But she would not be deterred.

     Unlike the fairies under her charge, Reul Ghorm was not a seedling.

     She had existed before Regina and Snow White had ever begun their war.

     Before Cora Mills had ever been born.

     Even before Rumpelstiltskin had become the Dark One.

     Her knowledge, like her wings, surpassed four centennials.

     Kingdoms had come and gone. Realms had been birthed while others had collapsed. Entire pantheons of Gods had formed, and fallen, all long before Reul was given title to the Blue Star.

     Only  _ her  _ Queen knew her thaumaturgic beginnings...and she was not present in this realm.

     So it was her responsibility now to keep the fairies here going.

     Reaching the door of the small building, a sudden feeling creeped upon the back of her neck, a sensation of intense--disturbed--magic. Brow drawing into a frown, she turned slowly in the direction of the vibes, and was surprised to find the sheriff--the rare product of true love--staring intently her way.

     The blond woman made no move to acknowledge her.

     She just leaned against her cruiser.

     Glaring at her.

     Taking in a deep breath, Blue pushed down the desire to engage the young woman, and entered the stone edifice.

     Whatever Emma’s issue was, it would have to be dealt with later.

     Right now, she had other matters to attend.

 

*****

 

     “That’s it! I’m bloody done!”

     Hook tossed the shovel aside, finding minuscule satisfaction as it banged off a nearby tree.

     Climbing up out of the tenth hole he had dug that morning, he ignored the incensed look Cora sent his way and yanked out his flask from within the borrowed jumper he wore. Taking a hefty pull from it, he let the always flowing rum sooth his frustration with a flushing--filling--warmth.

     “We have barely scratched the surface,” the older woman chastised, hands fisted at her side. “Are you so weak that you’re incapable of doing mere menial labour?”

     “Menial,” he mocked, turning to sneer at her. “We’ve been at this since the break of dawn and not found a shred of evidence that what you swore to me was true.” He stalked towards her, uncaring at this moment about her magical capabilities. “Tell me,  _ your Majesty _ , does the dagger exist, or are you merely following fallacious breadcrumbs?”

     They were practically nose to nose.

     He could see the purple swirling around her irises, rage spreading across her face.

     The air around them began to smell of danger, the hairs on his body rising in warning.

     But he cared not.

     He was tired, weary to the bone in a way he had never been before.

     All he wanted was his revenge--to see the crocodile fall, and finally be free.

     “I believe we are done for the day,” Cora unexpectedly stated, instead of lashing out.

     He was mildly relieved for the reprieve.

     “Do as you like, Killian Jones” she gestured him off. “But remain aware of our place in this land. Should you be caught by my daughter, or the White Princess and her Consort, I will not assist you in escaping whatever punishments fall your way.” She turned from him and began trekking back through the woods, her body stiff, the air following her full of deadly intent. “And do not overrate your ability to take on the Dark One alone. You may be a  _ Pirate _ , but you are hardly a master executioner.” She paused to glance his way one last time--eyes hard and smile vindictive. “Mark my words, Captain Hook, that crocodile will eat you alive without me.”

Then she was gone.

     A gust of wind, along with a purple haze, swept her away, leaving him to find his own way into town--alone.

     Growling, he swung out at the closest tree, digging his hook across its trunk, leaving a ghastly gouge in its wake. 

     He was done with her and all her little games.

     The Queen of Hearts be damned.

     It was time to put his own plan into motion.

 

*****

 

     Regina didn’t mean to let the door to Granny’s Diner bang close.

     But she wasn’t going to apologize for it.

     Meeting the scowl the older owner tossed her way at the sound, she marched over to the counter and took a seat without further incident.

     Her emotions, like the current chaos of the early morning crowd filling the small eatery, were all over the place. Anger gave way to fear that fed frustration, that then boiled into anxiety, that only chased itself back to anger--repeating again and again.

     Her mother was  _ here _ .

     Cora Mills, the  _ Queen of Hearts _ , was in Storybrooke.

     It seemed too absurd to be true.

     Yet she knew it was.

     No matter how much she resented her, was frightened by her, she always knew when her mother was lurking. She could feel it, like the touch of death gripping her bones--just like the curse she had absorbed to bring Emma home--and it was holding fast to her now.

     The air around town reeked of disappointment and disdain.

     She had caught more than one person in passing looking over their shoulders, unable to account for why they felt uneasy.

     But she knew.

     It was the same reason countless villagers had created many a fabled tale about her during the height of her reign that passed among the lands.

     Dark magic was disturbingly oppressive.

     And Cora Mills had it in spades.

     “Why do you smell like Emma?”

     The question, and the cup of coffee sliding into view, startled her.

     Looking up, she caught Red eyeing her curiously--long chocolate waves framing her fresh face. The casual down to earth appearance she had been sporting as of late was much more appealing than her cursed persona.

     “I’m sorry, what?”

     Surely she had heard the younger woman wrong.

     “Emma,” Red replied. “You smell like her...like,” she gestured towards the red blouse Regina had on, “you’re wearing her clothes or something.”

     The former Queen pulled back slightly, nose crinkling at the suggestion, a bewildered look gracing her face.

     “I assure you, Ruby, I have never worn Miss Swan’s clothes. Nor would I. Ever.”

     Raising a brow in response, Red shrugged, her hands tugging at a towel stretched between them. “Doesn’t change the fact that you still smell like her, Regina. And for the record, I’ve  _ definitely _ caught Emma in your clothes more than once in the last year.”

     Excuse her?

     “That’s because she’s a thief,” she argued in defense of the suggestion, “and made my son an accomplice in gaining access to my wardrobe.”

     Truly.

     What kind of woman did Ruby think she was?

     She had far better sense than to ever lend the accident prone blond clothes.

     Pausing for a moment, indignant at the thought that Emma probably still had one of her dress shirts, it dawned on her  _ who _ \--or more precisely  _ what _ \--she was talking to.

     Head tilting inquisitively, she asked suddenly, “What is it exactly that you smell?” She raised a hand before Red could repeat herself. “I mean clarify the scent for me, Ruby.”

     Lifting her head back a couple centimeters to take an obvious whiff of the air around them, the fellow brunette closed her eyes for a second, letting her senses gather the answer for her.

     “Like sunshine, spring rain, and sweetshrubs,” she finally answered, eyes opening once more, a sliver of gold circling her irises before fading out.  

     Of course.

     Heightened senses aside, Ruby--like all other magical creatures--was able to pick up the magical signature of an individual.

     Filing the information away for future use, Regina reached for the coffee set before her and took a long sip before saying, “Well, for the record, Miss Swan and I spent the morning creating a binding spell in my vault. I’m afraid whatever scandalous scenario you have imagined is simply untrue.”

     Offering her a coy smile before parting, Ruby sighed and said, “What a shame.”

     Snorting at the girl’s teasing nature, Regina focused on her coffee, and restlessly awaited the arrival of the Sheriff and her father.

     She also briefly wondered, for a fraction of a second, what Emma smelled like when she wore the dress shirt she had stolen from her.

 

*****

 

     Emma heard the old truck approaching before it ever came to a slow stop just feet from her and the cruiser. 

     But she refused to glance its way.

     Body tense, eyes set on the building the petite brunette had entered minutes prior, she let her anger and pain rage within her.

_      How dare she! _

_      How dare they! _

_      ‘No one wants you, Emma,’ _ eight year old Rita Montoya’s voice ricocheted in her mind.  _ ‘Just face it, we’re not worth anything to them.’ _

_      ‘No,’ _ she had shot back angrily, fists at her sides as they faced across a shared bed at her first orphanage.  _ ‘You’re lying! Someone does want me! My family wants me! I just haven’t found them yet!’ _

     Except it hadn’t been a lie.

     Emma knew that now.

_      Felt _ that now.

     “Why are you here,” she snapped as she saw David exiting his truck from her peripheral.

     He paused, eyeing her warily for a second, before taking a deep breath and slamming the driver door close.

     “I was thinking of joining the convent,” he finally replied, walking towards her even though her entire body screamed  _ ‘stay away’ _ . “The shelter is nice and all, but the pay isn’t enough.” He came to a stop a foot away, turning and facing the building she was eyeing, crossing his arms self consciously across his chest. “I figure maybe the sisters could use a handyman.”

     She wanted to ignore him.

     Or cuss him out until he left.

     But the randomness of his answer had caught her off guard.

     It was awkward and stupid. 

     It reminded her of herself.

     So she remained silent instead, keeping her distance from the man who was her father.

     Her  _ twenty eight _ year old father.

_      Fuck’s sake. _

     Why was she here?

     Why was she even torturing herself with all of this? She could just pack her bags and leave.

_      Fuck them all and their insane fairy-tale ways! _

     “Regina called,” he answered honestly this time, trying to break through the tension between them. “She was...worried,” he sighed at the word as if it didn’t quite fit what he was trying to express. “She told me about August...and what he said.”

     “Did you know,” she bit out, still refusing to look his way.

     “No,” he replied instantly, shaking his head. “I had no idea. If I had I...we...” He sighed again.

     A handful of minutes passed before he began talking once more, having apparently found whatever words he had been looking for.

     “Emma,” he turned to face her but she held her stance. “What we did, the choice we made, was wrong.”

     Reflexively her gaze flickered towards him.

     Encouraged, he continued.

     “We should have found another way,” he expressed, remorse etched deeply across his face. “I never, NEVER, wanted you to be burdened like this.” He shook his head regretfully. “I failed you, and there is,” his voice caught with emotion, “no excuse for that.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, but didn’t stop the tear that trickled from his wet eyes to trail down his chiseled face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

     She bowed her head, unable to take in the sight of him breaking down beside her.

     Her heart ached.

     Her very  _ soul  _ burned with indignation, loss, and abandonment.

     “Why wasn’t I enough,” she rasped out, lifting her own watery gaze to meet his as her emotions swelled like a tempest. “For you. For them. For  _ everyone _ . What’s so  _ wrong _ with me that I’m worth leaving?”

     He reached for her, gripping her by the biceps tightly, his face contorted in anguish as he drew her to him.

     “Nothing,” he swore vehemently. “You are perfect  _ exactly  _ as you are, Emma.” Like Snow had in the Enchanted Forest, he shook her slightly. “Never, EVER, think anything else.”

     She wanted to contradict him, to scream out that her life over and over again had proven otherwise.

     But a sensation--like a warm blanket on a bright winter morning--fell over her.

     It almost broke the dam within her.

     Fear, however, resonating out of distrust for the man she barely knew, had her pulling back from him and turning away to face off towards the convent like before.

     As she gathered her emotions and balled them up--pushing them down behind layers of indifference--she felt the keen sense of hurt drift from David and settle around her.

     The small orphaned girl within her who had clung to hope even after all this time, felt guilt tug her gut into a knot, filling her mouth with the sour taste of failure.

     Taking in a deep shaky breath, she shifted back towards him slightly, cleared her throat and said, “I was thinking about punching Mother Superior in the face.”

     She was anxious about what David’s reaction would be to the revelation.

     A slight sense of relief washed over her when the man sighed and then chuckled, reaching out once more-hesitantly this time--to grip her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze.

     “I punched Doctor Whale for sleeping with your mother,” he replied back, drawing her turmoil green eyes his way.

     “But they were both cursed,” she reminded him. It wasn’t a reprimand, just a stated fact.

     David shrugged.

     “Doesn’t change how I felt about it.”

     And Emma got that.

     Glancing one last time at the convent, she sighed and pulled out the keys to the cruiser.

     “How pissed is she,” she asked as she opened the driver’s side door.

     “On a scale of one to Evil Queen, I’d say Madam Mayor level,” he replied, a twinkle of humor in his eyes.

     Emma rolled her own eyes, though her mouth twitched with the urge to smile in turn.

     “I take it she filled you in about Cora?”

     He nodded. “We’re to meet up at Granny’s.”

     She gestured towards his truck. “Then we better be on our way, best not to keep her Majesty waiting.”

     Smiling at being included, David headed back towards his truck as Emma took in another deep emotion suppressing breath, and slid in behind the wheel of the cruiser.

     She’ll hold out on punching the Blue Fairy until the time was right.

     Because who knows what else Emma might learn in the meantime, and by then, she could likely justify more than a hard knock to the self righteous woman’s face.

 

*****

 

     Robbie Ingleton paced the alleyway near Mr. Gold’s shop anxiously, a cigarette drifting from his bearded mouth to his pudgy hands and back again in rhythm--smoke drifting up around his red wool cap.

     One of his clients was running late.

     He hated being exposed like this.

     Business was getting harder and harder to come by.

     “Stupid Savior breaking the stupid curse,” he grumbled, eyes flickering out to the streets before he turned and paced further back into the approaching midday shadows. 

     This wasn’t the most ideal location, but it was the closest building to the trails that lead into the woods. He was also wise enough to always have an escape, just in case.

     Hearing the sound of a vehicle slowing down as it neared the shop, he pivoted back towards main street.

     And came, unexpectedly, face to face with a very sharp hook.

     The partially smoked cigarette fell from his mouth as it dropped open in shock, embers skirting across his dark jacket and jeans until it landed silently on the pavement beneath his boots.

     “My, my, what a pleasant surprise,” hummed a familiar brogue, blue eyes and rascally features shifting into view behind the metal danger pointed in his face.

     Gaping like a fish, heart hammering in his chest, fear--and then exhilaration--coursed through him.

     “Captain,” he exclaimed, reaching out with barely a second of hesitation to grip the other man warmly. “You’re here!”

     Pleased at his reception, Hook smiled at the gent before him, and pulled his hook down to grip him back in turn. “Aye, Mister Smee. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

     “H-how did you get here,” asked his keen former mate. “Did you bring her? How does she sail?”

     “Like a goddess on the waves,” he replied, eyes crinkling with mirth at the man’s childlike demeanor. 

     Let it never be said that William Smee was not a passionate individual.

     He had a zest for life like Hook had never known.

     And an appetite for mischievous adventures that matched his own. 

     “Excellent,” Smee beamed at his response.

     “I would love to bring you back aboard,” he informed, his smile turning coy. “But first, I need a favor.”

     “Anything,” Smee replied, letting go of him to grip his hands in anticipation. “Whatever it is you need, I can do it.”

_      Eager. Always so eager _ , Hook thought with delight.

     Oh what luck it had been that he had spotted the all too familiar red cap as he exited the woods after walking for nearly an hour. If he didn’t know better, he would swear it a blessing from Ursula herself.

       Reaching into his vest beneath his stolen clothes, Hook pulled a small smooth onyx stone from a hidden pocket, and showed it to the man before placing it in his receptive palm.

     “I need you to deliver this to her Majesty as discreetly as possible.”

     “T-the Evil Queen,” the man stuttered questioningly, his brow furrowing in concern. 

     “Aye.” Hook patted his arm reassuringly. “The one and only.”

     “I-I just--,” the man started.

     But Hook talked on, dismissing his growing fears. “I’ve heard she’s rather tame now, should be a mere rebuffing should she be displeased. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t dyre, but I’m afraid desperate times call for desperate measures.” He caught Smee’s eyes and implored him, “Please, William, there’s no one else I’d trust to do this than you.”

     That sealed it.

     Back straightening, chest puffing out like a good sailor, Mister Smee saluted his former Captain and started down the alley into main street, calling back over his shoulder, “I won’t let you down,” his prior engagement completely forgotten.

     A twinkle in his eye at how easy it was to play his mate like old times, Hook waved the man off, then sighed as the weight of this choice settled upon him.

     Soon he and her Majesty would be face to face once more.

     He hoped, just like Smee, that his impending encounter would not lead to his demise.

 

*****

 

     Cora eyed the fashion display in the storefront before her as she discreetly walked around town, keeping to the shadows so as not to be easily spotted. The style of clothes here were...different than back home. She had assumed Miss Swan and Snow White simply had a poor sense of fashion, but it was obvious their state of dress during their encounter was standard for this realm.

     Eyeing the skirt and sweater blouse  _ (as it was labeled) _ critically, she sighed, realizing she would never blend in if she didn’t change her appearance. With a wave of her hand, the clothes vanished from the shop’s window front and replaced her own black dress. Taking in her adjusted reflection, she undid the pins in her hair and let her auburn locks fall to frame her weathered face.

     Time, unlike it had for those here, had not been kind to her.

_      Twenty eight years. _

     That was how long she had stressed and worried over how she was going to approach her daughter.

     Their previous meetings had been...strained, at best.

     All she had ever wanted was the perfect life for Regina.

     Since the day she held her in her arms, she envisioned such greatness for her only child.

     A high place in society, a kingdom to rule over, riches and power unbound, and joy--true unbridled joy at her wondrous success. 

     Alas, they could never see eye to eye on the particulars.

     Henry had been to blame for that.

     He was a coddler, a soft and dull man with no wants beyond what anyone asked of him.

     A simpleton.

_      Such a waste for a Prince. _

     Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts of her deceased husband, Cora turned back to the streets around her, and began to walk more comfortably among the villagers. 

     Storybrooke was a curious town with many things she did not understand.

     There were horseless carriages, little trinkets people were often talking into or looking at, and lights that required no candles or torches.

     It was not a place she was comfortable with.

     At all.

     But it was what her daughter had built, and so she would learn it.

     For her, and young Henry--her grandson.

     Thoughts of him reminded her that Snow White’s daughter had claimed birthright to the future heir. She had been...displeased about that revelation. The fact that Snow was even alive attested to some truth that her daughter had failed in destroying her enemy.

     But sharing in a child with that family? With the woman’s adult  _ daughter _ no less? That was...incomprehensible to her.

     Surely Regina had not forgotten the lesson she had imparted upon her so long ago?

     Love, unlike power, was temporary.

     A weakness no good Queen could afford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tellin' ya. Blue is shady as fuck. We know she's older than Rumpel, and because of that, I distrust her claimed abilities and intentions completely.
> 
> There had to be a breaking point for Hook somewhere. I don't know if is this a definite divide from Cora, but for the moment the 'at odds' will remain. I'm very excited to see how his encounter with Regina will go. 
> 
> Regina and Red :). I'm fast becoming amused by the way they easily talk and tease one another. I also see Ruby playing a bigger part where Emma and Regina's relationship is concerned than I had previously thought before.
> 
> Emma and David's scene originally ended differently. But after I thought about it, and took Emma's emotional habits in to consideration, I decided they were not ready to resolve or bond fully just yet. Still, I think it's honest progress on both parts.
> 
> I also think this is the first time I've been introspective with Cora. Brief as it is, we are able to realize her discomfort and frustrations fall to many areas. I can't imagine what this world is like for her, or how her emotions are ping-ponging due to it all, but I can presume her reactions will be...unpleasant.


	38. Anxious Choices pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other half of a massively long chapter, as promised.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! :)

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Rumpel made his way through one of the semi-crowded halls of the elementary school, reading off door numbers in his head as he tried to avoid the numerous children running about--counting down until he found the open door to Mary Margaret Blanchard’s classroom.

     With a sigh of relief, he grabbed the door handle and pulled the drawing covered partition close behind him, catching the young Queen’s attention as she looked up from her study plans.

     She eyed him warily as he approached, quickly getting to her feet, body tensing defensively.

     He always admired the bravery Snow White projected, no matter how much she reeked of fear and desperation. He found it odd that she had returned to this...existence, considering her admirable skill sets and lineage.

     Twenty eight years of repetition, he supposed, was hard to shake.

     “Rumpelstiltskin, what are you doing here,” she queried, her tone carrying understandable suspicion.

     “I’m looking for your daughter.” He placed his bag onto a nearby desk. “There has been a change of plans.”

     Snow’s brow furrowed. “Plans? What plans?”

     “Have you seen her,” he went on, ignoring her inquisitiveness. “I’ve checked the Sheriff’s station, as well as town hall. Neither herself, nor her Majesty have been in today.”

     Snow’s faced smoothed over at that, all expression blanking out.

     She knew something.

     It was a tell all royals possessed.

     They perceived false masks of indifference as a calculated tactic when concealing information from others while in conversation.

     But when dealing with him, it was idiotic.

     Raising his hand, stopping her from lying to his face, he said, “I don’t have time for any word games you intend to play with me.” Clasping his hands over his cane, he took another step closer, meeting her by her desk. “Let me cut to the chase, dearie. Cora Mills  _ is in _ Storybrooke.”

     Sea green eyes widening at the revelation, a sharp breath drew between them.

     Gesturing to the cell phone that sat on the young woman’s workstation, he asked, “Now, call your daughter, please?”

 

*****

 

     “So how do we flush an old hag out,” Emma asked in greeting as she entered Granny’s diner, taking a seat beside Regina at the counter.

     The older woman glared at her while David took up residence on her opposite side, unhappy--she assumed--for many reasons, including her.

     She offered her an apologetic shrug and chastised look.

     It had been childish for her to run off like that.

     But she wasn’t willing to say sorry out loud.

     “Where did you find her,” Regina asked, still staring at Emma, but directing the question to her father.

     “Uh,” he hesitated for a second, considering his response, but wisely answered honestly when she shifted her gaze his way. “At the convent.”

     Emma held her hand up before the brunette could inquire further. “I didn’t do anything. I just...,” she shook her head and hunched her shoulders defensively, slouching on her stool a little.

     Really, did she owe the other woman an explanation?

     A beat passed before Regina replied, “What a waste,” displeased with Emma’s petulant behavior.

     Sometimes the woman truly was a child.

     Biting her lip, unsure what exactly the former Mayor was pissed about, Emma cleared her throat and waved Ruby down for a drink.

     “So,” David said, clapping his hands together, drawing their attention towards him. “What’s the game plan?”

     Emma watched as Regina tilted her head, eyes narrowing in thought at him.

     “Our best bet,” she began, taking a drink from her own cup of coffee. “Is to lure mother out.” Her gaze shifted from his to the counter where her hands wrapped around the ceramic mug. “We know what and who she wants, after all.”

     “I don’t like that,” Emma broke in instantly, smiling at Ruby as she delivered her own brew. “The last thing I want is her getting her hands on your or Henry.” She began to doctor her drink, oblivious to the surprised set of eyes turning her way. “When I sent your mother flying back on her ass, I made it clear there wasn’t a chance in hell of her getting either of you.” She took a drink of her hot chocolate and sighed, turning back to face them. “And I intend to keep it that way. So let’s think of something else.”

     David blinked.

     Then Regina.

     And oddly, Ruby as well, standing just across from her father, pot of coffee still hovering half tilted towards his cup.

    She frowned, uncomfortable with their blank stares.

     “What,” she groused, hackles raised.

     “Nothing,” David replied, clearing his throat, returning his attention to Ruby and his cup of coffee.

     The waitress raised a brow at her, but finished her duty and then sat the pot down, making it clear she was joining their little impromptu gathering.

     Green eyes meeting swirling hazel, she watched as Regina’s orbs flickered with an array of emotions, before the brunette let go of her mug and slid it towards Ruby.

     “Make it a double shot espresso this time,” she said, turning away from Emma only when the waitress snorted in response to face her--features suddenly softening slightly. “Please?”

     Emma’s frown deepened as Ruby offered the older woman a half smile back before walking away to prep her order. 

_      When had Ruby and Regina become buddy buddy? _

 

*****

 

     Cora Mills eyed the little quartet in the small inn across the street, the lines of her face being drawn down tightly into a mask of detestation.

_      How deplorable! _

     She had so many expectations of Regina.

     She had hoped she was still beautiful, untouched by time. She had anticipated finding her well off still--clothing and jewels attesting to her stately position. She had even assumed young Henry would be with her so she could finally set eyes on the boy.

     What she had not considered, was that her daughter would be as common as those around her.

     There was no royal dress, no flash of exquisite jewelry or fine material.

     Her hair, that which even Cora herself had envied during her youth, was no longer long and luxurious. It had been butchered into a travesty.  

     There were no guards, no footmen, no servants, not even a companion--save the daughter of Snow White...and, curiously, her father.

_      By the Gods, what had Regina down with herself? _

_      What kind of life did she live here? _

_      Was she nothing more than a peasant? _

_      Is that what had transpired? _

     She had seen no castles, no flags or markings of any kind announcing ownership of these lands during her walk. There appeared, baffling so, to be no single ruler, nor a Kingdom at all, really.

_      Regina was a Queen! _

     This...whatever this was...she just could not stand by.

     Not after everything she had done.

     Too much time, far too much work had gone into securing her daughter a throne.

     She wasn’t going to let her waste it--Emma Swan be damned.

     Growling, tightening her fingers into a fist so tightly her nails bit into her calloused skin, Cora turned from the sight before her, and continued further down the pathway, the distant sound of children unexpectedly catching her attention.

     Moving towards the raucous, glaring at the passing horseless carriages that were forced to slow down or come to a stop as she tried to cross the hardened road, she found herself facing a stretch of grass by a large brick building. Spying a sign nearby, she murmured the words on it to herself, letting them sink in as a realization dawned upon her.

     “Storybrooke elementary school.” She turned back to the exuberant youth running around and climbing oddly shaped constructions, humming in brimming delight. “Perhaps young Henry is where I should start to...resolve things.”

_      He could be here, yes? _

_      It would be a simple task. _

_      A bonding encounter between...mother and son. _

     Glancing about her, ensuring she was out of sight of prying eyes, Cora closed her own--recalling the way her daughter had looked just minutes prior--and slowly swept her hands up, engulfing her entire body in magic.

     When the faint swirls of purple faded away, she ran thin fingers over herself, ensuring she had captured her daughter’s current appearance perfectly.

     With a sigh of satisfaction, Cora straightened her posture and moved out from her hiding place towards the playing rugrats. She had no clue what young Henry looked like, but if he was indeed here, she would find him.

     Surprised when a few of the unkempt runts waved her wave, Cora found herself having to force a smile and return the greetings, lest anyone suspect who she was. It seemed her daughter’s weakness for children had remained intact as well.

     Making a direct line for one of the adults standing nearby, she caught the eye of a lean man just meters away, and was pleased when he signaled her over.

     “Morning your Majesty,” he greeted politely, though his gaze and body language projected barely concealed enmity. “What brings you by this morning? Henry?”

     Clearing her throat, hoping her glamour spell would hold with this land’s magic, she replied hesitantly in her daughter’s voice, “Yes. I was hoping to speak with him for a moment.” She gestured towards the unholy acting group of boys and girls. “May I?”

     With a curt nod, the man whistled, then called out, “Henry Mills! Your mother’s here.”

     Gripping her hands in anticipation, a genuine smile gracing her face, Cora’s eyes lit up as she spotted a young boy with a mop of brown hair and hazel orbs making his way towards her.

 

*****

 

     As Snow White reached for her phone, a thought occurred to Rumpel, and he cast his gaze around the room before asking, “Where is young Henry?”

    Dialing her daughter’s number, the pixie haired brunette replied, “Outside having recess. Why?”

     “It would be prudent to gather the boy and keep him close,” he said. “There’s no telling what Cora is up to, but I suspect Henry would be in her sights one way or another.”

     Biting her lip in growing concern, Snow gestured towards the door leading out of her classroom, cell phone pressed to her ear as it starts to ring.

     “Emma,” she asks in relief, her daughter picking up while she’s yanking the door open and stepping out into the hallway, Rumpelstiltskin hot on her heels. “We’ve got a problem.”

 

*****

 

**_Just outside of Storybrooke_ **

 

     He’d been driving for miles now, having just left the highway without a single sign pointing him towards the ocean side town he was looking for. August’s directions were all he had to go by, and if that man was leading him on a wild goose chase, he was going to have to find Emma on his own.

     With very little to go on.

     Ten years.

     Ten  _ fucking _ years have passed since he’s last seen her.

     The guilt over what he had done, what he was forced to do, had formed a permanent knot in his gut he would never be able to get rid of.

_      ‘But you had to _ ,’ August had reasoned. ‘ _ She has a destiny to fulfill and you are just in her way.’ _

     He knew a lot about fate.

     And curses.

     He had spent multiple lifetimes running from both.

     But no more.

     Not now, not since Emma’s duty was done.

     He was going to find her, and come hell or high water, he was going to make right by her.

 

*****

 

_**Storybrooke** _

 

     “What’s wrong,” was the first thing Emma asked when her cell went off and Snow’s number popped up on the screen. Her legs were already tensing before her mother could even speak, knowing the other woman was suppose to be at work.

_      “Emma,” _ she heard her sigh in relief over the line.  _ “We’ve got a problem.” _

     “What is it,” she asked, gesturing for Regina and David to stand as she slid off her stool, matching frowns and questioning gazes spreading across their faces.

     Just as she reached into her pocket to pull out some bills, a man stumbled past her into the counter between her and Regina, distracting her from her mother, and earning a grunt of surprised displeasure from the former Mayor.

     “I-I’m s-so sorry,” the bearded fisherman stuttered, pushing his hand towards Regina’s left palm still on the counter, before quickly pulling away, and practically running out of sight towards the inn side of Granny’s.

     Perplexed at the very unexpected incident, Emma moved to follow him, but was drawn up short, and back to her phone, as she heard her mother yell,  _ “Emma, did you hear me? I said Cora is here!” _

     “I know,” she replied distractedly, green orbs darting to Regina who was curiously eyeing something on the counter. Head tilting, she peered at what appeared to be a smooth stone left behind by the stranger. “What is that,” she asked the brunette inquisitively. “Did he seriously just leave you a rock? What kind of fucking weirdo does that?”

     Tossing the bills she had been reaching for onto the counter, she waited and watched as Regina tentatively picked up the onyx color object, rubbing it thoughtfully between her fingers while her mother talked on in her ear, mumbling incoherently either to her, or herself. Emma wasn’t really sure.

     “It’s a summoning stone,” the former Queen replied. “One I’ve only given out to a handful of people.”

     “People like...” Emma hedged, turning towards the door of the diner.

     Snow had said something about Rumpelstiltskin seeking her out, asking about her, and then...Henry?

_      What would Rumpel want with him? _

     “Captain Hook, for one,” Regina revealed guardedly above the din of Snow’s voice.

     Emma’s entire body ran cold as she came to a halt.

     No.

     No fucking way.

     Taking in a shuddering breath, her mind racing--David’s wary gaze bouncing between them--she pivoted back and met the brunette’s quickly growing determination with a frown. Tuning back into her mother’s voice for a second, she asked, “Where are you Snow?”

_      “At the school,” _ the pixie haired teacher huffed in annoyance.  _ “Looking for Henry!” _

     Emma nodded.

     It was best they collect him now, get him and Regina somewhere safe for the moment.

     “Find him and bring him to the station,” she said, motioning for her companions to follow her, moving once more towards the door.

     Emma was not surprised, however, when only David started forward.

     Frown deepening, she turned towards her Majesty.

     “I want you with me,” she said, brooking no argument. “Whatever he may want, forget it.” She could practically see the wheels spinning in the brunette’s head. “Henry is our priority right now. If Cora is sniffing about  _ in _ town, I want you  _ both _ safe.”

     To her growing dismay, Regina took in a ragged breath, and then shook her head. “No. I need to see what he wants, to find out what he and mother are up to. It may be the only chance we get.”

_      Dammit! _

     “No, _ Regina _ ,” she argued, voice rising. She should have know it was going to be like this. “That isn’t the plan. You have no idea if it is a trap or not, and I’m not willing to take that risk!”

     “We don’t have a  _ plan _ ,” the older woman shot back, her own temper flaring, eyes hardening. “And it’s not up to you,  _ Emma _ , what we should all do.” Gathering her jacket, jabbing her arms through the sleeves in clear irritation, she added, “Find Henry, get him back to the mansion, and stay put. Mother wants me most of all, so you should be safe there.” She met her gaze head on. “This is my fight, I’ve got it handled.”

_      Why? _

_      Why did it have to be like this? _

_      And she had the nerve to be pissy with how she had acted earlier? _

     “Jesus Christ, woman, can’t you just--” Emma started to yell, but it was pointless.

     In a whirl of smoke, much like Cora had done back in the Enchanted Forest, Regina was suddenly gone.

     “Son of a bitch,” Emma shouted, smacking her hand against the wall by the door.

_      Two steps forward, ten steps back. _

_      Dancing. They were always goddamn dancing! _

     Glaring at her father, who looked lost and unsure, she barked, “I need you to get to the school, now,” while hanging up on Snow.

     “Where are you going,” he asked, wincing when she slammed the door open, taking the steps in long rapid strides out of the diner that required him to pick up his pace to follow after her.

     “To find Captain Hook,” she said, eyes blazing, yanking the door to her cruiser open. “And her Majesty before she gets herself killed!”

     Sighing in frustration, hands on his hips, David paused for just a second as Emma roared the cruiser to life and kicked up gravel--spinning out onto the street--before he turned and started running towards the elementary school just a short distance away.

 

*****

 

     Reaching the playground in a bit of a sprint, Snow tried to take in some calming breaths, hoping she didn’t look as frantic as she felt while hanging up her phone and scanning the group of children playing. Sensing the door behind her moving again, just as she exited it, she stepped further outside to let Rumpelstiltskin accompany her, his gaze sweeping the kids critically as well.

     “Where are you, Henry,” she muttered, eyes narrowing. She thought she spied a disheveled brown head racing off in the distance, but was let down a few seconds later as she realized it was a boy much too old to be her grandson.

     “There he is,” Rumpel suddenly pointed out, finger lifting off towards her right.

     Eyes shifting that way, Snow’s breath caught as she saw Henry walking away from them towards...Regina?

     “Is that--,” she started to ask, but the Imp cut her off.

     “That’s not her Majesty,” he sneered, body tensing beside her, the air starting to thicken as he began to pull on his dark magic.

_      Oh no. _

_      No, no, no, no, no, no! _

     “Henry,” she called out, panic spreading through her chest, squeezing at her ribs. “HENRY!”

     But he couldn’t hear her.

     “Do something,” she demanded, turning to Rumpel. “Stop him. Stop her!”

     Nodding, the Dark One raised his hand.

 

****

 

     “Finally,” he shouted in relief, hitting the roof of his car reflexively as he spotted a sign saying  _ ‘Welcome To Storybrooke’ _ just meters ahead.

     “Thank you August,” he whispered, kissing his knuckles and tapping them on the wheel.

     The writer hadn’t let him down.

_      Thank the Gods! _

     Taking in a few deep--bracing--breaths, he anxiously flexed his fingers, and pressed down on the gas, cutting the distance between him and the town line rapidly. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he passed over. Magic had been absent from his world for decades.

     But whatever the outcome, he was going to enter Storybrooke.

     One way or another.

 

*****

 

     Henry was surprised to see his mother standing off to the side of the playground with the gym teacher. Not that she wouldn’t visit him on occasion, but he thought she was working with Emma today on keeping Cora and Hook out of Storybrooke.

     A shy smile spreading across his face nonetheless, he started towards her.

     Then, unexpectedly, the hairs on the back of his neck began to raise.

     He paused slightly in step.

_      Why are my spidey senses tingling? _

     Biting his lip, glancing around him, Henry didn’t see anything, or anyone, that looked...off.

     Nose wrinkling in confusion, he turned back to his mother and crossed the remaining distance between them, unable to shake the growing unease creeping over him.

     “Make it quick,” Jim said, gesturing to his watch. “Recess will be over in about five minutes.”

     Henry nodded, but his mother glared at the teacher before reaching out and gripping him by his right shoulder.

     Instantly his spidey senses flared, like heat racing across his skin.

     Her grip, though familiar, was different. Harder, and stiff. Like she expected him to run or something.

     “Come with me Henry, I have something I want to talk to you about,” she said, a smile tugging lightly on her lips.

     But something was off about it too.

     “Uh...ok,” he said hesitantly, gazing around them once more, taking note of all the people he knew and if any of them were paying attention to him.

     Just in case.

     His mom lead him a few feet away, enough so they could talk without being overheard, then leaned suspiciously towards him.

     Maybe something was wrong?

     Maybe that was why he felt so weird?

     Like  Emma’s lie detector, he knew when something wasn’t right?

     “Where’s Emma at,” he asked, eyes riveted to his mother, meeting her curious stare.

     “Busy,” she replied, tone short. “Henry, I wanted to know if you...,” she halted, tilting her head slightly as if thinking, or suddenly hearing something he couldn’t.

     Her gaze leaving him, he watched as hardening brown eyes swept the playground, looking for something.

     Frowning, Henry did the same for the third time in as many minutes, his heart starting to pound, the hairs on his arms raising to match those on his neck.

     “What,” he asked, now on alert. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

     Hearing a sound, a muffled voice that was familiar, Henry started to turn around when he saw his mom pause on something behind him.

     Unexpectedly, she reached out and jerked him back around to face her.

     “Yes,” she replied, her angry Mayor voice kicking in. “And we need to leave now. I need to keep you safe.”

_      Leave? _

_      Like take me out of school? _

_      Right now? _

_      And safe? _

_      Safe from what? _

     “But what about--” he started, only to have his mother surprisingly pull him tight against her as she stood back up.

     “Now, Henry,” she replied. “Don’t argue with me.”

_      Something’s wrong. _

_      Really, really wrong! _

     He can feel it.

 

*****

 

     “Rumpel,” Snow snapped in warning, and he saw it too, the way Cora--glamoured as Regina--spotted them.

     Teeth gnashing, bracing for the fight about to go down, Rumpel reared his arm back, ready to lay the witch out with a volley of dark magic.

     But he was violently brought up short.

     A pain, the likes of which he had never experienced before, ripped through his chest, crippling him inward with a sharp hiss. Balance wavering, his vision blurring as his head exploded like a bullet passing right through his third eye, Rumpel reached out and clung shakely to the young Queen, her surprised short frame struggling to hold him up.

     “Rumpel,” she cried, distressed, her voice muffled out by an ungodly ringing piercing his ears. “Mr. Gold? What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

     He shook his head, trying to push himself through what one could reasonably argue as a magical assault. “I--” he gasped, clutching at his head, weak knees bending. “I don’t know.”

     “Oh god, oh no,” Snow White gasped.

     He looked up just in time to see Cora and Henry, terrifyingly, vanish in a cloud of dark purple magic.

     “They’re gone,” she shrieked in disbelief. “Cora took him! They’re gone!”

     Yes.

     They were gone.

_      But how? _

_      Why? _

     What was wrong with him?

     “Get me to the library,” he wheezed, the attack on his body starting to wear down. “Now, please.”

     He saw Snow White nod at his request, but her watery gaze was riveted to the spot where Cora and Henry had just been.

     There was nothing either of them could do now.

     They had failed.

     And Henry would no doubt pay the price.

     Oddly, his heart pulsed with an ache akin to...sympathy, for the young grandmother.

 

*****

 

     David turned the corner, the school just in sight, when a horrid sense of overwhelming magic suddenly consumed him. Gasping, stumbling in his step, he whipped his head around, bracing, looking for the source.

     But he saw nothing.

     Pushing forward, trying to shake the rotting smell permeating the air off, he reached the playground, and was shocked to see Regina standing with Henry just meters away.

     Hadn’t she gone off to see Hook?

     Frowning, he heard his wife’s voice unexpectedly call out--in clear fright--for Henry.

     Something was clearly, deeply, amiss.

     “Henry,” he shouted, trying to get his grandson’s attention, racing forward once more.

     Panic gripping him, he felt a wave of nausea sucker punch his gut as he saw Regina straighten suddenly and pull Henry roughly towards her.

     That wasn’t a protective motherly tug.

     He had seen Regina with Henry enough times to know how she handled him.

     And that wasn’t her.

     He just knew it.

     “Henry,” he shouted again, desperate to get his attention.

     But it was in vain.

     With a wave of her hand, just like at the diner, Regina was swept away in a cloud of magic, vanishing--with Henry--from his sight.

     “NO,” he shouted, his knees wobbling, forcing him to a stuttering stop.

_      By the Gods, no! _

 

*****

 

     He had barely managed to bring the car to a screeching halt before he was out the door and retching onto the pavement. His entire body burned, screaming as if fire ants were converging on him, biting across every centimeter of skin in their consuming chaos.

_      Oh Gods. _

     He detested magic!

     Spittle hanging from his lip, limbs trembling with the effort to stay on all fours, he lifted his head and sniffed the air around him, taking in the glittering flecks of white and purple magic flickering in beams of sunlight, and the strong scent of sunshine and cinnamon.

     Most would never notice it.

     But he wasn’t like everyone else.

     Wiping at his lip, feeling the torrent onslaught of magic starting to abate, he sat back on his haunches and took in deep shuddering breaths--the bindings of the small town gathering in his lungs, only to be expelled and gathered again and again.

     “Next time,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. “Next time I’ll bring a protective potion to take before I cross through a magical barrier like that.”

     Waiting a few more minutes to fully gather his bearings, he eventually stumbled back to his car, put it in gear, and slowly continued into Storybrooke.

 

*****

 

     Emma made it two blocks in the cruiser before she spotted the red hatted man from the diner bumbling his way down a side alley.

     Slamming on the brakes, swerving to block the side street off, she hit the driver’s side door and was out on the pavement in a dead run within seconds.

     “Stop,” she shouted, arms and legs pumping. “I said stop!”

     The man stumbled as he turned his head, spotting her, fear flashing across his face.

     Reaching him in a few strides as he tried--and failed--to regain his balance, Emma yanked the man up by his collar and slammed him against a nearby dumpster.

     She didn’t regret for a second the way his head rang against the metal, shoving him in the chest, holding him in place.

     “Where is he,” she demanded, nostrils flaring. “Where is Captain Hook?”

     “I-I don’t k-know,” the man lied, trembling with fright, shaking his head. “I s-swear, Sheriff! I don’t kn-know what you’re talking about!”

     “Don’t fucking lie to me,” she snarled, leaning in so they were nose to nose, the odd sound of her cell phone suddenly going off somewhere behind them.

     She ignored it.

     “I’m giving you _ one _ chance.” Pressing her solid muscular frame into his, she asked again, “ _ Where _ is Captain Hook?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.
> 
> Damn Cora and her manipulative ways! Truthfully though, I much rather like the idea of her posing as Regina to 'visit' with Henry than her going off to kill Archie. The impact is still the same as anyone outside the family isn't going to know it's really Cora whisking him off. It's also a great sucker punch to Snow and Charming's developing relationships with Emma and Regina.
> 
> And, dammit Regina, why do you have to go off on your own to do shit? I mean, I know you tend to be just as irrational as Emma, but really? Ah well. Guess we'll have to wait and see how that little escapade goes down.
> 
> Boy is pissed off Emma fun to write! Though, she needs to calm down a bit, or she's going to end up with some serious health issues. Too much stress is never good for a perceived savior.
> 
> Low blow for Rumpel. Time to let Belle tend to him and his unexpected...issue, before Cora finds out about this new weakness.


	39. Greetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little update to move things along. 
> 
> Happy Halloween folks!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Henry wobbled as the vomit stench cloud of magic faded around him, everything spinning slightly, his stomach doing that lurching flip it does when he’s had too much ice cream. He puffed his cheeks out and pushed away from the body beside him, letting himself stumble into what looked like a wooden chest.

_      Oh man, I don’t feel so good. _

_      Uck. _

     Groaning, wrapping his arms around his gut, Henry squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding in his ears, and leaned against the hard oak that kept moving slightly. 

     Did his mom just do magic with him?

     “Henry,” he heard her chastise, “Get up off the floor, it’s no place for a Prince.”

     “What did you do,” he whined, accusatory, opening his eyes just enough to squint at her. “Where are we?”

     “I transported us aboard a ship,” his mother replied, “So we could talk.”

     “A ship?”

     His mom didn’t like boats.

     She always refused to take him sailing, telling him she gets queasy with all the up and down motion. Plus she was terrified he would fall overboard because he fell into the pond at the park that one time.

_      Lose your balance once while feeding the ducks and your mom helicopter parents you into boredom. _

     A cold sweat breaking over him, Henry shivered.

     The woman standing before him looked like his mom, but she didn’t smell like her, and the magic she used stunk like roadkill. His mom’s magic--what little he had experienced of it--was lighter, and smelled like apples and cinnamon.

     Like  _ her _ .

     “Wh-who are you,” he stuttered, pressing himself tightly against the lid of the trunk, taking in their surroundings for the first time.

     Yep.

     They were definitely on a ship.

_      A Pirate ship!    _

     He expected the fake Regina to lie to him, to keep up her charade, but he was surprised when she raised her chin--a small glint of approval flickering in her dark eyes--and then summoned her magic once more, letting her mask fall.

     “Clever boy,” cooed the older woman in a blouse and skirt, her toothy smile all false grandmother cheer.

     Henry gasped.

     “Cora!”

 

*****

 

     Hook felt his throat tighten as the onyx stone in his hand glowed, the summoning being answered. His heart squeezed, a shiver running up his spine. Biting his lip, taking an unsteady drag of his flask, he eyed the trees around him with trepidation.

     The Queen was coming.

     He prayed to every goddess of the sea he could recall as the air around him began to thicken, the telltale sign of someone approaching.

     She had to forgive him.

     Trust in him.

     He needed it.

     He needed her.

     Unexpectedly, he felt a breath ghost across the back of his neck, and then the phantom of a hand caressing along his shoulders.

     Tensing, refusing to allow the tremble that raised through him to show, Hook braced himself.

     “Hello, Killian Jones,” husked a familiar timbered voice centimeters from his right ear.

     Flickering his gaze that way, he was met with only the distant tree line.

     A throaty chuckle rumbling in his left ear, he whipped around, panicked frustration gripping him at the tease.

     “My, my, how we’ve changed,” rasped the specter.

     Nostrils flaring, he opened his mouth to taunt her back.

     But suddenly, there she was.

     Dark. 

     Volatile.

     Gorgeous in familiar regal splendor.

     Sunshine bouncing off high midnight hair, amber shades of nearby leaves complimenting her shadowy attire, red lips stood out like crimson sin against tanned skin...and smiled.

     “Regina,” he whispered, forgetting himself.

     She was upon him in a heartbeat, fingers shoving painfully into his chest, wrapping around his pulsating organ, squeezing as she snarled, “It’s your MAJESTY!”

     He cried out as his knees buckled, the weight of his body sagging upon her outstretched arm. He flailed, gripping at her dress. His hook vanished in a wisp of purple, and he found it hauntingly once more pressed against the skin of his throat.

     “You had better start talking, Pirate,” she hissed, drawing him close--pupil blown honey orbs burning like hot coals in a void of untethered rage. “Or I’ll kill you where you kneel.”

 

*****

 

     Emma raced towards Mr. Gold’s shop, her left leg bouncing anxiously.

_      Stupid Regina and her stupid need to pull stupid stunts like this! _

     She shook her head, biting her lip in irritation at the brunette.

     Sometimes, they were eerily too much alike.

_      Hook had better have learned his lesson. _

     Or this round, she _ was _ going to kill him.

     A black car she had never seen before, approaching from the opposite direction, out of nowhere, almost break checked the vehicle behind it--coming to an abrupt stop as she passed. Too focused on getting to Regina and Hook, Emma did a quick rubberneck, and filed the car’s license plate number away for later. She didn’t have time for dickish drivers.

     “Fucking moron,” she muttered, watching in her side mirror as the Honda eventually started moving again, slowly making its way towards Granny’s.

 

*****

 

     “Rumpel,” Belle cried out in surprise as he and Mary Margaret stumbled into the library, the older man leaning on the young Queen in visible distress. 

     “What happened,” she asked, meeting them halfway--taking up some of Rumpel’s weight on the opposite side so she could settle him into the nearest chair.

     “I don’t know,” breathed Snow, chest rising and falling in exertion. 

     Just then David Nolan came rushing in through the door out of breath as well, his wild eyes bouncing between them until they settled on his wife.

     “Snow,” he rasped, taking long strides towards her. “What happened,” his gaze fell briefly to Rumpel, “Was that Cora? Did she take Henry?”

     “Yes,” she broke with a restrained sob, reaching for her husband, drawing him to her. “Something attacked Rumpelstiltskin,” she explained, nodding towards him, “and before I could get to him, he was gone!”

     “Cora is here,” Belle inquired, trying to follow their conversation. She knelt beside her true love, gripping his trembling hand, running her concerned gaze over him. “You were attacked? By who? Her? What did she do?”

     “I-I don’t know,” wheezed the Dark One, wincing as he shifted in discomfort.

     “We have to tell Emma! We have to let her know that Cora has him,” Snow stressed, reaching for her cell phone, recalling her daughter’s number.

     “I’ll tell Regina,” Charming added, pulling his own device out.

     “Regina?” Snow frowned, Emma’s phone ringing more than it should. “Isn’t she with Emma?”

     “No,” he sighed in exasperation, hitting the former Mayor’s number. “She’s gone after Hook.”

     “Hook,” Belle whispered, her hand involuntarily squeezing Rumpel's as she was gripped with fear. Hearing the man groan in pain, she eased her hold and reached out a soothing hand to run through his hair. “Could it have been him? Did he use magic?”

     But Rumpel just shook his head, pinching his eyes shut as his body warred with flickers of palpitating agony. 

 

*****

 

     Releasing a deep breath, he exited his car and stood, facing the diner that looked forever entombed in the 80s.

     “Really,” he quirked, his eyes crinkling at the timeless facade.

     August had warned him that Storybrooke had been frozen in time, preserved by the curse during the age of yuppies, Spielberg cinema, and Henson animation. He just figured the writer was being whimsical in his description.

_      I guess not. _

     Reaching for his bag, he closed the door on his sedan and glanced around before walking up to the diner, his nerves still rattled by the sight of the Sheriff’s cruiser that had passed him minutes earlier.

     It had been Emma, he just knew it.

     But she obviously either hadn’t seen him...or didn’t care.

     Nervous at the prospect that they would undoubtedly meet again, he opened the door to the eatery, and welcomed the bustling bodies drawn by the smell of good food.

     Catching the eye of a tall curious brunette, he smiled as she approached.

     Chocolate gaze sweeping up his form, she tilted her head and asked, “New in town?”

     He chuckled. “That obvious?”

     Smiling in turn, she gave him a slight nod before gesturing to one of the stools at the counter. “Only to us locals. Have a seat. I’ll get you a menu.”

     Doing as he was told, he sat and subtly took in the fellow patronage.

     He didn’t see any pronounced signs of fairytale characters, but he could still smell the magic lingering in the air. He wasn’t sure what exactly to expect. Perhaps no ogres or trolls milling about, but at least something a little more reminiscent of home.

     Spotting the waitress returning with a laminated sheet in hand, he gave her his best boyish grin and questioned, “So how’s the grilled cheese here?” 


	40. Welcome To My Dark Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) I think you are going to enjoy this.

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Her blood had surged at the sight of him.

     There, among the falling leaves of autumn, stood Killian Jones--hidden within shades of stolen black and grey. Blue eyes panicked. Gleaming hook warily at half mast.

     It snapped something in her mind.

     In her magical essence.

     Maybe it was their mixed past.

     Or the smell of rum and salt water that he wore.

     Maybe it was the bags under his eyes, or the scruff of his face.

     Either way...the Evil Queen awoke like the dawning of the sun.

     In the blink of an eye her wardrobe shifted, mutating, churning like dark effervescent. Old familiar inky clinging material trailed across her, slinking, wrapping, meshing like a second skin against her body. Short locks expanded, filling, snaking until they were wrapped tightly in a comfortable updo. Tan cheeks became dusted, caramel eyes smoked, and apple red bled across her lips.

     She hummed at the thought of torturing him, at bringing him to his knees..

     So she did.

     Fingers deep in a slim chest, wrapped around his stained heart, she squeezed.

 _Gods_ , how she had missed this!

     “P-please,” he pleaded, gripping her forearm tightly with his single functioning hand. “Please, your Majesty! I beg mercy of you!”

     “Mercy,” she shouted, shaking him, thrilled when he cried out in agony. “You _lied_ to me, Hook! You betrayed our agreement, and now, you’ve brought _my mother_ to this land! You,” she growled, their noses touching, “don’t deserve _my_ mercy!”

     “I had no choice,” he whined in desperation.

     “How hard was it,” she demanded, “to stick your hook,” she pressed the said weapon against his throat tightly, “in her chest and rip,” she skimmed it across the flexing flesh, “her heart out!”

     “I did as you asked,” he roared back, eyes enraged with pain, “but her bloody chest was empty!”

_What?_

     Regina blinked.

     Hook panted, groaning, trying to remain on his knees, his entire frame trembling,

     “What did you say,” she asked, the swirling euphorium she was caught in cracking like glass, muting into a fractured conflicting hum.

     “Her bloody chest was empty,” he repeated, shoulders sagging wearily. “Cora,” he rasped, “has no heart.”

_No heart._

     Her mother.

     Was heartless?

     “Holy shit.” The voice, an unexpected third party, drew her attention.

     Swinging her head to the right, she felt her insides seize.

     “Emma,” she hitched, meeting wild forest eyes.

 

*****

 

     “Of all the places,” she grumbled, bringing the cruiser to a stop just outside Gold’s shop.

     She didn’t have a keen sense of where all the woodland trails were in town, having only chased pongo--and followed August--down a few. She was hoping smelly bearded guy had told her the truth, or she was going to have to find him later, and happily cuff him for giving her false information.

     Boots pounding across pavement, then soft grass, followed by dirt and leaves, Emma hit the trail--ears straining, eyes surveying the depths of the trees for a wayward Queen.

_Where the hell are you, Regina?_

     She groaned when her cell went off for like the third time in the last five minutes.

_Seriously? What the hell? Can’t they wait?_

     Whatever it was, Mary Margaret was just going to have to hold off for a second.

     How hard was it to gather Henry and head to the mansion?

_Jesus._

     A cry, one distinctly accented by misery, startled Emma, making her pause in her tracks. Head tilting, listening, she heard muffled voices in the distance. Turning that way, legs pumping, she hoped she managed to reach Regina before it was too late.

 

     She had expected many things when she finally found them.

     Hook being smarmy.

     The former Mayor being her typical volatile self.

     Both childish, accusatory.

     What she _hadn’t_ anticipated, was tightly dressed elegant vengeance manhandling Hook like a rag doll.

     The sight, like a scene right out of Henry’s book, stopped her dead.

     “Holy shit,” she gasped, eyes blowing wide, mind going blank.

_Holy fucking shit!_

     ...........................

     Henry had told her.

     Her mother had warned her.

     Even Regina herself had talked about it.

     But seeing it?

     ......................

     Was an entirely different reality.

_Regina really was the Evil Queen!_

     Honey brown orbs shifted her way, and a chord inside Emma suddenly plucked like a tightly wound string--blooming out as if her insides were a dandelion caught in a gusting breeze. A rushing noise consuming her, drowning everything out, pulled her chest up and down in growing staccato.

     “Emma,” the gothically stunning creature breathed.

     She shivered.

     The voice, those lips so red, ghosted across her skin, urging goosebumps to flush.

_My God._

     Spellbound.

     That’s how she felt.

     Meeting the other woman’s troubled gaze, she followed it as it moved slowly back to the man before her, trailing down his partially concealed face...to the hand in his chest.

     Emma’s body seized.

     “No,” she choked out without thought.

     Pushed free of self induced confinement, Emma stumbled forward, hand shakily reaching out.

     “Please,” she asked, frantic, eyes flickering between the Queen and Hook. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

     A pink tongue swiped out to moisten bruised lips, whiskey eyes fading to familiar--disturbed--honey.

     “I--,” a timber cracked, “I don’t...”

     Emma saw it then.

     Smelled it.

     The emotional war brewing in the moment.

     It plumed like hurt. Rage. Insecurity. Hunger.

     She knew that want.

     That need for payback.

     Chest heaving, taking only a second to think about the risks, she placed her outstretched hand onto the forearm she had gripped numerous times this past year.

     “Not this way,” she husked, catching the brunette’s gaze. Sparing a glance at Hook, “You can torture him all you want,” because he no doubt deserved it, “just not like _this,_ ” she nodded where her grip lay.

     A warmth flickered between them, spreading out, encompassing them like building energy. Emma felt it coil in her core, blushing her skin.

     Hearing the older woman suck in a sharp breath she watched as her features hardened, before she ripped her hand out of Hook’s chest.

     Slender fingers empty of the prize she had captured minutes prior.

     Tension thick--stimulating--but allowing them to breath with a little more ease, Emma turned her eyes to the quivering man, the Queen standing to her full height.

     “Explain,” her Majesty ordered.

     Emma bit her lip, willing her legs not to jiggle, those words rattling her bones.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

_Regina was the Evil Queen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Emma has met the Evil Queen.
> 
> I know she has always seen just Regina, and I think she still does, but I have no intentions for Regina and The Evil Queen to ever become separate entities. I want them to be one, to be recognized, blended just as Emma and The Savior are.
> 
> Also, if you have never heard "Deep End" by Ruelle or "Dark Side" by Bishop Briggs, I highly recommend checking both out as they influenced this overall moment heavily.


	41. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Hook, a bit of Emma, and a whole lot of Regina.
> 
> Happy weekend all! :)

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

_      Idiot! _

_      What the hell was Emma doing here? _

_      What have I done? _

     Biting her lower lip, her insides screaming in panic, Regina swallowed her fear away and stared Hook down, wanting answers for his revelation. 

     Surely he was wrong.

     Right?

     Her mother had a heart.

     Albeit...a rather tainted one, if her childhood was anything to go by. But the woman loved her, and to do so she had to possess a heart.....

     Didn’t she?

     “When I crossed into Wonderland, I was brought to your mother’s attention,” Hook wheezed, shaky fingers raising to rub at his tender chest, “just as you said I would be.”

     She nodded.

     Having expected as much. She knew her mother and that land, after all.

     “I allowed her to get close,” he sighed, finally collapsing to the forest floor beneath him, weary, defeated, “and then I raised my hook,” he gestured to the fame weapon she still held, “and sank it as deep as it would go.”

     “But,” Regina paused, trying to process how it could have all gone wrong, “you found...nothing?”

     He nodded, reaching up to toss the cap on his head off, running weathered fingers through wild dark tresses.

     “Aye,” he caught her eyes, imploring deeply with storm blue for belief, “her chest, much like her soul, was barren.”

     She drew in a deep breath through her nose, her own chest rising and falling with rising emotions. Her entire self was a storm of chaos, thoughts, magic and feelings warring with one another.

     This

     This changes  _ everything. _

     Not just watch she knew of her mother, but...

     “Who are we talking about,” asked Emma, brow drawn, one hand on the hilt of the gun on her hip, the other flexing--fingers pushing anxiously deep into her palm.

     “My mother,” she rasped, meeting her eyes fleetingly, worried what she might see there.

     Taking note of herself, the dress, the hair, the makeup--all cloying--Regina swallowed heavily, closed her own eyes, and willed it away, returning herself to the woman she had been for the last twenty eight years.

     The woman Emma knew.

     The one Henry loved.

     Hearing a sound off to her right she couldn’t interrupt, she opened her eyes to find the Sheriff’s gaze bouncing around them, unable to settle upon her or Hook, distressed.

     She had screwed up.

     Again.

     “What does that mean then,” questioned Emma, clearing her throat, shifting in her stance. “Cora not having her heart.”

     “That she’s as hollow as you suspected,” smirked Hook, raking his eyes up and down the young woman, the madness Regina was intimately familiar with shining through towards her son’s mother.

     She frowned.

_      They’ve met before. _

     She had forgotten about that.

     Displeased with the reminder, nostrils flaring, Regina glanced at Emma, unsurprised when she shot Hook a look that she had only seen once this past year.

     It spoke of murderous intent.

     Distrust. 

     And a speckle of something...else.

     A low rumble making its way out of her own throat, drawing their attention back to herself, she said, “If what you are saying is true,” and she suspected with a heavy soul that it was, “then there is only one person besides my mother who might know how...or why...she did such a thing.”

     That caught Hook’s interest.

     Down trotted as he seemed just seconds prior, the man suddenly staggered to his feet, ditching the coat and overalls he wore--movements jerky--frantic. 

     Desperate.

_      He hungers for the crocodile, even now, _ she hummed to herself.

_      Good. _

     She was slightly surprised when Emma stepped between them, her gun sliding soundless out of its holster, her eyes narrowed, trained on Hook, waiting to see what he would do next.

     “Take me with you,” he demanded, face transforming into a mask of unbridled rage. “Let me have what is mine!”

     He offered his hand out, just like the first time, asking with needy fingers for his hook.

     “No,” she said, gripping the metal, pressing it against her body. “Not until you make up for what you have done.”

     “I paid my due,” he argued, stepping foolishly forward just as her and Emma’s phones went off.

     The blond growled and shoved the man back, raising the gun at him, in no mood for his aggressive brashness.

     Reaching for the device in her pocket, watching as Emma did the same while keeping Hook at bay, she answered the unexpected call from David.

     “Cora has Henry,” were the first words that spilled out of both of their phones, stopping her heart in mid beat, snapping her widening eyes to the blond beside her.

     “What,” they both gasped, voices tight, a chill seeping into her veins.

     Snow, whose distraught tone she could hear coming from Emma’s phone, mirrored her husband's words as they replied, “Cora took Henry from school! She magicked herself away with him before we could reach her!”

     “How,” Emma shouted, startling her and hook, muscular form vibrating with rising fury. “How did she get that close to him?”

     “A glamour,” David answered on Regina’s line.

     She felt her stomach roll.

     “As Regina,” Snow confirmed.

_      Oh dear Gods. _

_      Oh, Henry! _

     “Rumpelstiltskin and I found Henry on the playground during Recess, but Cora was already there pretending to be her,” the pixie haired teacher bit out a sob. “I’m so sorry! We were too late! She...or something, attacked Rumpel before he could intercept!”

     “Attacked?” Regina frowned, then glared at the man across from.

     He seemed perplexed, however, at the news.

_      Not him then. _

     “Something, or someone magical tried to level him out,” Belle spoke up, her worried tone distant. “He’s been slipping in out of consciousness since they got here.”

     “Can Cora do that,” asked Emma, hard burning eyes flickering between her and Hook for answers, “Is she capable of taking the Dark One out?”

     Regina shook her head.

     “I don’t know,” her nerves were racing, too many questions, not enough answers, too much going on, not enough time, “Only Rumpel can answer that.”

     “What are you doing here,” snarled Emma, turning her outrage to Hook. She reached forward and yanked the unsuspecting man closer, letting the nozzle of her gun rest warningly against his diaphragm. “Why did you come to Storybrooke?”

     “To kill the bastard who took my love,” he snapped back, mindful of the weapon between them, “To kill Rumpelstiltskin!”

     They held gazes for a moment, measuring each other up, before Emma pushed Hook back, grunting in unsuppressed anger. She ran her fingers through her hair before shifting closer to Regina, killing the call with her mother.

     “What do we do,” she asked, the look she had seen at the hospital those horrid days before blooming across her face once more.

     The bile in her gut railed at the sight.

     What  _ do _ they do?

     Go to her mother now?

     Confront her and take Henry back?

     Or go to the library?

     Regroup and find a way to take Henry from her mother with as little damage to him as possible?

     Her mind begged for the first.

     To end this insanity.

     But her tactile senses knew better.

     “Stay where you are,” she told David, meeting Emma’s troubled sea green orbs. “We’ll meet you there shortly.”

     Swallowing the constriction in her throat, Regina took in a ragged breath, blinking away the tears that tried to fill her eyes, and ended her own call.

     “We need to know what her intention are,” she reasoned, though she could see Emma was as against it as she was.

     Quick to act.

     Short to think things through.

     They were too much alike in this regard.

     Before Hook could even speak, Regina narrowed her gaze on him and sneered, “You’re going back to my mother,” she tossed his precious deadly appendage at him, “and like a good little Pirate, you’re going to find out what the hell she is up to and then report back to us.”

     He raised his chin, about to protest.

     Emma straightened her stance and twitched the hand with her gun his direction.

     The blond may think it was the threat of it that had Hook quickly appeasing with a frustrated nod, but Regina felt the air thicken with violent magical intent around them.

     Looks aside, the man she knew wasn’t that much of an idiot.

     Magic was emotion.

     And Emma was spilling over with both.

     Much like herself in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hook is damn lucky Emma and Regina didn't kill him right then and there. I don't see Emma as a murderer, but she does have some serious anger and impulse issues and...well...things can happen.
> 
> Ruelle seems to be my emotional muse at the moment, so if you haven't heard "Madness" by her yet, I recommend checking it out.


	42. Rifts and Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday folks! :)

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Belle watched on--heart thumping with worry--as Rumplestiltskin drifted back from semi-consciousness, wincing while shifting in the chair he had been residing in since his arrival.

     “What can I do,” she asked him, coming to kneel by his side. “What do you need, Rumple?”

     Taking in an unsteady breath, the Dark One met her concerned gaze. “A bit of tea, perhaps,” he rasped, reaching out, fingers shaky, to hesitantly lay his hand over one of hers. “Something sweet?”

     The brunette bit her lip, wanting to do more than just bring her love something to drink. She could see the pain he was in, could feel it tugging at the tethers between them.

     “Please, Belle” he whispered, pleading.

     She hated when he did this.

     When he dismissed her care because he was stubborn, wanting to deal with things on his own--thinking, in some way, he was protecting her from himself, keeping her safe.

_      Why? _

_      Why couldn’t he just meet her halfway? _

_      Why couldn’t he just trust her? _

     Drawing a breath in through her nose, trying not to let her frustration show, Belle slipped her hand from beneath his and stood--looking down at him for a beat--before turning away to do as he asked.

 

     Sighing, Rumple watched her go, before darting his eyes around the library. Snow White and her Prince were outside the front doors having a little chat, their attention focused on each other. 

     Feeling his mind begin to sharpen, the pain in his chest still thrumming but becoming tolerable, he wasted not a second.

     Fingers trembling, he jammed them into his own chest, biting his lip, turning his chin into his shoulder to smother out his cry of distress.

     Before ripping his heart right out of his chest.

     His entire body shuddered at the release.

     It had been far too long since he had performed such a feat.

     Ribcage rattling, lips quivering, he dared himself to look at the horror he expected to see, knowing his time alone was short.

     Troubled eyes observed the throbbing organ.

     He was unsurprised by the amount of darkness consuming his heart.

     Or how solid the lower chambers felt--like a lump of coal.

     What he was stunned by, however, were the pulsating streaks of red that were cracking along his frail cor meum--spreading with each beat, eating at the darkness, leaving scars of deep stitching burgundy.

     Tears stung at his eyes.

     His once battered leg quaked with rattled nerves.

     Catching the sound of a spoon tapping rhythmically against a cup as Belle returned, Rumpel sucked in a sharp breath, and then pushed his heart back into place, panting with exertion--a swarm of sensations overwhelming him, pushing almost back to the brink of unconsciousness.

     By the time his love was able to settle her tray on a nearby table, he had leaned himself back into the chair, allowing his eyes to close once more.

     He felt her gentle disquieted touch upon his flushed cheeks, her unease at his condition palpable.

     He selfishly leaned into her caress--a ripple of pain searing across his chest at the desire.

     It was starting to become clear to him now what was going on.

     What this attack truly was.

     .........................................

     Rumplestiltskin.

     Man.

     Father.

     Lover.

     .........................................

     Was suddenly at war with the living Darkness that had spent the last three centuries consuming his heart.

     .........................................

     But why?

     Why now?

     Why here, in Storybrooke?

 

*****

 

      Once Hook was back in his disguise and on his way, Regina anxiously followed Emma to the cruiser--hands gripped tightly, shoulders hunched. 

     Should they talk about what the blond had witnessed?

     Did she have to apologize for losing control?

     Like at the loft days prior, the thought--the  _ want _ \--had barely just skimmed across her mind before her magic took over, encouraging her to follow her yearnings without hesitation.

     Long ago she would have embraced such fluidic harmony within herself.

     Now though, it was leaving her deeply unsettled.

     It made her question her true nature.

     Her real self.

     Regina didn’t doubt for a second that the Evil Queen she had once been was not some manifestation born of situation. She was a very real, integrated, piece of her core existence. Her temper, her lineage, had always been violent.

     It was why she had resisted, and hated, her mother so.

     ........................................................................................

     Prince Henry, her father, had been an outcast among his own kind.

     He was simple.

     Loving.

     And she adored him.

     She embraced his gentle, caring nature.

     She marveled at his nurturing capabilities.

     He had taught her much, and was the epitome of defiance she wanted to be like most of all.

     Cowardice, unfortunately, had been his only failure.

     ...................................

     Then there was Cora.

     ................................

     And...well...here they were.

 

     Pulled from her thoughts by the turning of an engine, Regina realized her and Emma were already in the cruiser heading towards the library--which would be a very short drive.

     She cleared her throat, wanting the other woman’s attention while she had the chance.

     “What,” Emma asked, glancing at her.

     “I just..” her words got stuck in her chest. 

_      Dammit! _

     What could she say?

     What should she say?

     ...................................

     “What you saw back there was a mistake,” she settled on admittance, her tone sour, defensive.

     She hated being wrong.

     Emma frowned. “You mean with Hook?”

     Regina nodded.

     The Sheriff breathed in deeply from her nose, chest expanding as she gathered her own thoughts.

     “I won’t say I’m happy with what I stumbled across,” she hesitantly replied, picking her words carefully, “but I’m not ignorant of who you are, Regina.”

     The former Queen snapped her head to the left, facing Emma, brow raised in surprise.

     The blond sighed.

     “Henry has been trying to tell me from day one who you are.” Wary eyes met briefly. “And I asked my...mother, about you while we were stuck in the not so Enchanted Forest.”

     Oh Regina could only _ imagine  _ what _ Snow White _ had to say about her.

     “And you admitted it yourself,” Emma continued, pulling up to the library, “both at the hospital, and during our talk the other day.” She shifted in her seat so she could eye Regina critically. “You are the Evil Queen.”

     Regina felt her lips twitch, wanting to sneer at the title, to glare at Emma for using the words against her. 

     Instead, she just raised her chin and narrowed her eyes.

     She didn’t deny it.

     But she resented Emma’s perceived perception nonetheless.

     Then the blonde bit her lip and glanced away out the windshield. 

     “Look, Regina, when that whole ordeal with Mr. Go- Rumplestiltskin all went down over Ash- Cinderella’s baby, I told her people are going to tell you who you are your whole life.” Their eyes met once more, moody green peering into shady brown, “So you’ve just got to punch back and say, no,  _ this _ is who I am.’”

     A beat of silence fell between.

     Understanding passing in the absence of words.

     “You want people to look at you differently,” Emma said softly, “Then make them. If you want to change things, you’re going to have to keep doing it yourself.” Greenish blue hardened as they held her, “because we  _ both _ know, in this world, there are no fairy godmothers for us.”

     The startling speech left her feeling invaded, exposed in ways she wasn’t comfortable with.

     Not with Emma.

     Not at this point.

     No matter how honest and real this new dynamic between them felt.

     Swallowing away the lump that had formed in her throat, she husked, “Don’t presume to know me more than you do, Miss Swan.”

     The walls had to come up.

     She was too raw right now.

     “Never claimed to,” the blond replied dismissively with a shake of her head, not taking offense to her defensiveness.

     Exiting the car, done with this little chat, she heard Emma clear her throat as she rounded from her side of the cruiser and unexpectedly ask, “Was that how you always looked? Back then?”

     She paused, confused. “Yes,” brow furrowing. “Why?”

     The blond shrugged. “Just curious.”

     Unsure what to make of the fleeting emotion crossing the Sheriff’s face, she slammed her car door shut, and followed Emma into the library.

 

*****

 

     Henry stared at the woman before him that was the mother of his adoptive mom.

     Should he call her grandma?

_      Could _ he call her that?

     He crinkled his nose at the thought.

_      She may not like that. _

     Clearing his throat, trying to get ahold of this situation while his belly began to settle, he decided a new operation was in order.

     The code name?

_      Sparrow. _

     “You look nothing like my daughter,” Cora said suddenly, snapping Henry out of his thoughts.

     He tilted his head curiously, eyes narrowing as she crossed her hands in front of herself, much like his mother does, and took a seat across from him.

     “What?”

     “You don’t share her eyes, her nose, not even her color,” the older woman continued, studying him. “You must truly take after your...other...mother.”

     “Uhh...” He blinked. Confused.

     Did Cora not know he was adopted?

     If not then....well, HE wasn’t going to tell her that. Who knows what she might do to him if she found out the truth.

     “Yep,” he squeaked, straightening his back, trying to offer her a toothy smile. “But I got my mom’s personality,” he argued, knowing that was at least somewhat true.

     What was it called?

     Nurture and nature? Or something like that?

     Seemingly pleased, at least, by his answer, Cora offered him a strained smile in turn, a bit nicer than the first one she had given him after her magical disguise wore off. 

     “Good,” she said, wrinkled brown orbs twinkling, “I’m pleased to hear that.” Shifting her gaze from him, he watched as she eyed the room they were in. “I’m sorry we had to...meet, like this, but alas,” she cast her stare to the floor he was still resting on, “my daughter and I don’t have the best of relationships.” She looked up, face turned downward in distress. “I would very much like to rectify that, if I could, Henry. That’s why I followed your...Miss Swan, from the Enchanted Forest.”

_      Hunted, you mean, _ he thought bitterly.

     Cora reminded him a lot of Magneto--fake friendly and pretending lies were true.

     He hated that.

     It was still one of the things he was conflicted about with his mom.

     He wanted, no, _ needed _ , honesty.

     Otherwise...how could he trust?

     Just as he was about to ask her what that had to do with him, and if she was really sincere or not, they heard footsteps land on the wood planks above.

     With a frown, Cora stiffened.

     Henry tensed.

     He was hoping it was Emma or his mom coming to get him.

     But the steps were heavy, and he feared it was the owner of this ship coming home.

     Sure enough, just as Cora moved forward to open the door, it flew wide on its own, startling him as it slammed against the adjacent wall.

     There, clad in leather, stood a man that looked more like Dr. Strange than Jack Sparrow.

     “What are you doing here,” demanded his auburn grandmother, tone sharp, hands flexing--again, just like his mom.

     “I could ask you the same,” growled the man, who, Henry realized with a gasp, was sporting a hook where his left hand should be.

_      Captain Hook! _

     Having apparently heard him, hard blue eyes shifted his way, and Henry braced himself as the man looked him over.

     “Who’s the lad,” he questioned, tone as cold and as unkind as any villain he has ever heard.

     Cora raised her chin and said, “My Grandson, Henry.”

     Captain Hook’s right eyebrow quirked at that.

     “You kidnapped your daughter’s boy,” he stated, unhappy--it seemed--about the news.

     His grandmother pursed her lips.

     “I simply wanted a chat with him.”

     “What then,” Captain Hook asked, tone harsh. “Toss ‘em overboard? Whisk him back to the Enchanted Forest, hmm?” He suddenly pointed towards Henry, finger sharp and angry. “That boy don’t belong on my ship!” He then pointed at Cora, menacingly. “And neither do you, witch.”

     Henry’s eyes bugged a little at that.

     Was Cora really a witch?

      Or did he just insult her?

     Did that make his mom a witch?

     Would she be insulted if he called her that?

     “I’d be careful, Killian Jones,” his grandma warned.

     He felt a shiver run up his spine.

     Ok.

     So she was way scary than him right now. 

     “Or you might find yourself,” she hissed, shifting closer to Henry, “out to sea without your precious vessel.”

     “You don’t scare me, love,” he sneered back, raising his hook slightly at her. “Not anymore.”

     Cora eyed the object the same way she had focused on Henry earlier, studying it, before backing off slightly.

     “Come along, Henry,” she called, gesturing for him to join her. “We are apparently unwanted here.”

     He was hesitant to move.

     Where would he and Cora go next?

     Was he safer here?

     Or with her?

     When he didn’t budge, Captain Hook unexpectedly stepped forward and yanked him by the collar of his jacket up off the floor--Cora crying out in protest at the move.

     Struggling to steady his feet, Henry glared at the Pirate--terrified and angry--until the man winked at him and slipped something smooth into the fold of his collar.

     Frowning, confused, he pulled away, moving to stand beside a very agitated Cora.

     “Do that again and I’ll skin you alive,” she snarled, gripping Henry tightly by the shoulders.

     “Be off, you old wench,” he shouted with a matching menacing stare, flickering his gaze just once more to Henry, before turning to the door and gesturing them out.

     With a huff Cora dragged Henry out of the room and up the steps to the open deck of the Pirate ship.

     Heart pounding, unsure where they were going, Henry quickly adjusted the collar of his jacket, letting what felt like a stone slip unseen into the palm of his hand, and then into the pocket of his coat.

     Before Cora stopped them, eyes searching, and then hand raising to summon her magic, Henry glanced back to the man behind them, and saw him tap his fingers to the side of his nose before covering his lips.

     He had to suppress the surprise that almost broke across his face.

     Swallowing at the anxiety building in him, he reminded himself--this was an operation, and he was now undercover.

     But he wasn’t alone.

     He had an out.

     Or help.

     In a Pirate named, Captain Hook.

 

*****

 

     “How do we get Henry back,” was the first thing Snow asked as Emma and Regina entered the library, their frazzled stares bouncing between her and Charming, Rumplestiltskin and Belle.

     “I don’t know yet,” croaked her former step-mother, eyes stormy at the reminder of her son.

     Deep in the recesses of her heart, Snow felt a twinge for the woman she had once--and secretly still did--love. She knew the pain of being separated from her child.

     But she also remembered that it was Regina herself who had been partially responsible for that.

     “Well we need something,” she snapped, irritation rising with her own frayed nerves--and regret.

     The other woman sneered at her, stepping intimidatingly forward like old times, but Emma reached out and gripped her by the bicep--giving her a quick squeeze--and meeting her angry gaze straight on when she snapped back to glare at her.

     Regina huffed.

     Then backed off.

     Snow frowned.

     The dynamic between her and Emma was shifting yet again, leaving her as confused as it had upon their return.

_      What is going on between them? _

     “How is Mister-..how is Rumplestiltskin,” her daughter questioned, nudging Regina further into the open area of the library where said man sat leaning back in his chair.

     “Unwell,” Belle replied, approaching them from her spot beside her love. “I have no idea what’s wrong with him,” she caught Regina’s inquiring eyes, “and he’s unwilling t’ speak to me about it.”

     Sighing, the former Mayor glanced at Emma, having another brief--silent--conversation, before moving towards her once mentor.

     Snow watched warily as she surmised the man, tilting her head as if listening to something only she could hear.

     Then, she reached out and slapped him across the face.

     “Regina,” she gasped in shock, Emma and Charming snapping her name out as well in admonishment.

     “What,” the other woman barked back, staring them--and Belle--down as the librarian attempted to protectively wedge her body between the two magic users. “He deserved it!”

     To their surprise, and displeasure, Rumplestiltskin chuckled that hideous impish laugh he use to do back in the old land. Before lifting his head to meet the former Queen’s angry gaze.

     “Be careful, dearie,” he hissed, eyes (disturbingly so) blown completely black, “you wouldn’t want to dance like we use to, hmmm?”

     Belle, startled by the shift in Rumple’s appearance, took a step back from him--while Emma stepped towards Regina, face hardening, assessing the pawn shop owner.

     “What’s wrong with him,” she asked, watching intently as Rumple titled his head curiously at her, sniffing the air like he caught a scent he enjoyed.

     Snow felt a chill break across her skin at the action.

     Charming’s arm came around her shoulders protectively, drawing her into him.

     “Regina,” Emma muttered, waiting on an answer as the Evil Queen and Rumplestiltskin locked eyes once more.

     A few beats of silence passed between them.

     Then Rumple blinked, frowned, and closed his eyes.

     ..................

     That was it.

     ..................

     The man, or monster, had slipped back into unconsciousness.

     ........................................................................

     Regina sighed, but her shoulders didn’t relax.

     “What’s wrong with him,” Belle echoed Emma’s unanswered query, voice a bit frantic--unaccustomed to being dependent on others for answers about her true love.

     “He’s becoming the Dark One,” the former Mayor finally replied, whiskey eyes flickering to the faces frowning at her.

     “But he’s always been the Dark One,” Snow said, not understanding.

     Regina nodded slowly, but responded as if speaking to a child. “Yes and no, Snow. Rumplestiltskin was a man, long,  _ long _ before we knew him.” She shifted her gaze back to Belle. “The darkness within him is a living host, one which he took on willingly.” Her eyes moved to capture their attention. “Since the curse, however, he’s been a more blended mix of the two. Until now.”

     “What’s doing it,” asked Emma. “Is it the curse breaking? Or magic being back?”

_      Was it us _ , she wondered.  _ Did we trigger something when we came back? _

     Regina shook her head. “No. It’s too rapid, too abrupt of a change. Something else had to induce this. The fact that he seems to be fading in and out suggests he’s resisting it, or a...war of some kind is going on within him.” Turning her attention to her, she inquired suspiciously, “Why was he with you in the first place?”

     “He came asking about you and Emma,” she replied right back, defensive and caustic as well. “He had a..” her eyes scanned the room, finding what she had sent Charming to retrieve earlier, resting on a nearby table, “a bag with him. Like he was leaving, or something.”

     Moving toward said object, Regina seemed to debated over it for a few seconds, before taking a step back, and using her magic to part the locks on the traveler.

     To their surprise, the bag mostly consisted of clothes, cash, and fake passports.

     Glancing curiously at Belle, the older woman raised a brow in wait with them of an explanation.

     “Rumple had intended to leave,” the librarian confirmed. “After Cora and Hook were...dealt with...” she took a deep breath, like she was about to share something personal, “so he could find his son.”

     “Son,” Charming questioned, unsure he had heard the young woman right.

     Snow’s throat constricted at the thought.

_      Rumplestiltskin’s a father? _

     “He has a son,” Emma verbalized their thoughts, surprised as well. “Where?”

     “Somewhere in this land,” Belle expressed sympathetically. “He’s spent most of his life looking for him.”

     Removing a potion bottle from the bag, Regina hummed at the revelation. Gesturing the object at Emma, she said, “I think we now know the answer to that question you had.”

     Her daughter’s lips drew thin, apparently unsettled by her words.

_      What question had that been? _

     Snow’s brow furrowed.

     What had Regina and Emma been up to this morning?

     Catching Regina’s shoulders and back suddenly going ramrod straight, Snow watched as the woman drew something long and narrow up and out of the bag, fingers twitching as she used her magic to rotate the item slowly.

    She heard Belle draw in a sharp breath.

     Her former step-mother faced the other woman, eyes blazing

     Obviously the princess knew exactly what it was.

     So did Regina.

     “I take it  _ this _ is for my mother,” she questioned, tone sharp, chest rising with increasing rage.

     “I don’t--,” Belle started, shaking her head in denial.

     But Rumplestiltskin cut her off with a rasped, “Yes,” from his position.

     Turning, they watched as she met her former mentor’s eyes--now back to a steely brown--and demanded, “Where the hell have you been hiding this?”

     Studying the black fairy wand slowly spinning in the air above his travel bag, Rumple shook with the effort to sit himself up and replied, “Somewhere very far, and very safe, from you.”

     Regina’s nostrils flared at that.

     The fact that the three of them even knew such a thing existed bothered her greatly.

     Did Blue know of it?

     She had never heard, nor seen, such a dark--ominous--object.

     The magic coming off of it stunk of regret and malice.

     Taking in the two magic wielders staring one another down, Emma asked a question only they would know the answer to.

     “Who the  _ hell _ is Cora Mills?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who the hell is Cora Mills indeed? 
> 
> I cannot wait to reveal everything about her to you. For the most part, her origin remains the same, but where her heart lies, and how that will all be resolved, is going to be a very emotional, twisted, trip :).
> 
> Rumple is just...not doing well. BUT, the Dark One, certainly has potential of showing itself. However...how that conflict will all go down has yet to be determined. I'm just following my muse, and this is what they see so far.
> 
> Hook. Dude. Like, you're just pushing everyone's buttons to the breaking point. You are beyond lucky Cora see's her relationship with Henry as very fragile, or she would have crushed your heart right then and there for such volatile behavior. STILL...mad props for sneaking that little gift to Henry. Regina might not be thrilled about your tactics, but if the results are rewarding... 
> 
> Thank you, Emma, for using that line again--for reminding us that you're not ignorant nor judgmental when someone makes a mistake or losses their temper. That was something that really bothered me about Season 2 Emma. She bounced far too much between her parent's perception on things, and her own. Not saying she doesn't want to meet them halfway, but I refuse to let Emma lose herself in the process.
> 
> Ooooh. Black fairy wand! What does it do?
> 
> Honestly. I never watched the whole Black Fairy ordeal in season 6. Does she ever use the damn wand? Does it even serve a purpose? Didn't the first Robin Hood we saw in OUAT use it to heal Maid Marian? I gotta research this more...


	43. The Miller's Daughter pt1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for having to split this chapter. It ended up far more massive than I originally anticipated, and took me forever to find a reasonable parting point. I also hope this flows smoothly for you. Sometimes my mind thinks something makes sense when to others it's just a jumbled story sequence.
> 
> Onward we go!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     One minute they were on the deck of the pirate ship, the next they were in the woods near the new playground his mother had built.

     Everything around him was spinning.

     Henry felt his stomach tighten, then constrict in that  _ ‘oh no’ _ sensation.

     Before he could even take a step, he was on his hands and knees, sharing what little lunch he had at school with a set of tree roots and muddy leaves.

_     Eeeewwwwwwwww! _

_      Uck. _

_      Oh man, it tastes even worse the second time! _

     Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, his body trembling, he felt a wave of shame wash over him. He didn’t like being sick--especially like this. His mom was always soft, and sweet, and cuddly, when he got all icky, but it made him feel guilty--like he failed somehow.

     Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to calm himself down, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

     His mom wasn’t there to rub his tummy, and he wasn’t going to dare ask his grandma to do it. 

     So he hugged his right arm across his stomach, trying not to press uncomfortably against it, and held himself--hoping he would feel better soon.

     “Why are you so weak to magic,” Cora tsked behind him.

     Henry felt his ears flame up in hurt and self reproach.

     “I’m not use to it,” he mumbled, frowning, anger starting to seep into his veins.

_      It’s not like it’s my fault! _

_      Why is she so mean? _

     His vision finally settling, he turned his head and looked up at the older woman staring down at him with brows drawn in thought.

     “What,” he asked, defensive.

     “How long ago did the curse my daughter cast break?”

_      Why is she curious about that? _

     “Uh...,” he had to think, “like four, five days, maybe?”

     “And how did it fall?”

     “True love’s kiss.”

_      With Emma. _

     But he wasn’t going to share that.

     Cora turned her attention away from him--her eyes crinkling, her mouth pinching as she studied the woods around them.

     He slyly slid his hand into his coat pocket, feeling the smooth stone Captain Hook had given him, wondering what it’s suppose to do.

_      Can I use it to escape? _

_      Will it teleport me back to the ship? _

_      Or will it bring the Pirate here? _

     Sighing, unsure if it was worth the risk, Henry just held the small onyx, thought of his moms--both of them--and waited to see what Cora was going to do next.

 

*****

 

**_75 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     “Darling,” sing-songed a vivacious auburn woman with a husky timber--swishing her way in soft white cotton dress and red bodice from the backroom of a small shop to the front where similar dresses, linens, pelts, and gowns were on display.

     Brown eyes twinkling at the lack of response, she swept her honey eyes high and low, moving quietly as possible between the fine clothing, humming to herself, a smile teasing at the corner of her petite lips.

     “Cora my love,” she crooned, ducking into a crouch when she thought she saw movement under a magnificent golden ball gown she had spent months sewing together.

     A muffled giggle from her right had her turning, quickly reaching beneath a long blue cloak wrapped around a faux torso.

     “Got ya,” she laughed, her daughter’s musical squeal of surprise tickling her ears and filling her small shop with exuberant life.

     She pulled her out from the article of clothing and into her warm arms, enjoying the weight of her precious child, resting her in her lap.

     Matching features glowed with affection as Cora reached out and pushed wild strands of hair from her face so her rosy cheeks were free to kiss.

     “You found me, Mother,” the seven year old expressed, nose crinkling wonderfully in mischievous delight. 

     “Indeed I did, my love,” she replied, pecking her cheek, then her forehead as she rocked her slightly. “You’re quite the clever girl,” she praised, “it took me half a candlemark to find you.”

     “I am, aren’t I,” Cora agreed, ever so proud.

     She chuckled.

     “Yes, darling.” Gently picking her up, she set her daughter on her feet and straightened out her little sea green dress. “Now. Let us get back to work, shall we? These clothes don’t make themselves, y'know.”

     “They could if you had magic,” Cora said, hopping around on her feet as she followed over to her work station where her patterns, needles, cloth, and scissors sat.

     She placed her hands on her hips, meeting her daughter’s intelligent eyes in contemplation.

     “Hmm, right you are,” she agreed with a nod of her head. “But alas I’ve got none.” She tilted her head curiously. “What about you?”

     She had to bit her lip to keep from laughing as Cora frowned and stared at her hands forlornly.

      “No,” the girl pouted, “not today.”

     “Well then,” she sighed, slapping her own hands together, “I guess we’ve just got t’ use what we’ve got, eh?” She gestured to the partially done pants they had been creating. “C’mon then. Help your dear mother out.”

     With a blossoming smile, Cora climbed up onto her stool, pressed her hands down on  the pattern she had drawn, and held it as she began cutting into leather for as set of trousers.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “Well that,” he said, balling up his napkin and tossing it onto his empty plate as the lanky brunette reached his side of the counter, “was the best sandwich I have ever had.”

     Ruby _ (he had learned was her name) _ chuckled and he smiled, eyes wrinkling in genuine mirth.

     “We’ll I’m glad you liked it,” she replied, dragging his dirty dishes away to place them in an empty tub.

     Taking a deep breath, figuring now was the time to take his next chance, he added, “So much so,” removing his wallet, fingering out some cash, “that I was thinking of trying it again tomorrow.” Blue eyes darted up to catch honey brown. “If there’s a place to stay in this little seaside town.” He glanced around, keeping his body language casual. “I’m in need of a bit of a vaca and I figured,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to her, “why not here?”

     A fine eyebrow quirked.

     Those sparkling eyes narrowed slightly.

     Her nose twitched, just a smidge.

     “Sure,” she breathed, tone all false cheer. “My grandmother and I happen to run the local B&B, in fact.”

     “Really,” he raised his brows, pretending to be surprised.

     One thing people couldn’t argue against him was his ability to act.

     It makes a good con last.

     “Yep,” she replied, popping the ‘p’ as her hands twisted the dish towel stretched between them.

     “Could I uh..,” he gestured the bills in hand, “get a room then?”

     “Sure,” she smiled, motioning him towards the register. “I’ll check you in after you pay for your lunch.”

     Her entire body language screamed wary.

     But he kept it cool, offering her his most charming smile, when she looked up from the old unit to tell him his total.

     “Hey, uh,” he leaned just a tad close, lowering his voice, catching her full attention, “do you happen to have your rooms numbered?”

     “Uh,” Ruby just stared at him, perplexed. “Yesss...why?”

     He smiled. Shrugged. “I’ve got a thing about numbers.”

     “Really,” she muttered, taking his cash and handing him his change back.

     “If you happen to have a room number two available,” he gave her that boyish grin that always got him what he wanted, “then I’d love to have it.”

     “You got it,” she smiled in turn, warm and distant.

     Nodding towards the hallway that divided the two businesses, he followed Ruby there, glancing down at his watch to check the time.

     It was about six hours ‘til dusk.

_      Shouldn’t be long now before Em’ knows there’s a stranger in town. _

 

*****

 

**_75 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     “Do you see him,” her mother asked, rushing into the front of their little shop, hands swiftly going over her dress and hair, making sure all were in place.

     “No,” she replied from where she stood at the window shelf, chin just reaching the top of it, fingers clasping onto the wood as she watched people bustle about in the market square outside.

     “He should be here any minute,” assured her mother, voice nervous, body restless.

     Cora frowned, eyeing her curiously.

     “Why do you like him so,” she inquired, feet scuffing the hardwood floor beneath her. “He’s not like Papa.”

     “Which is why I like his company,” her mother replied, drawing towards her, tapping her nose affectionately.

     “Do you not love him,” she wondered, her little heart and mind troubled at the notion. “Papa, I mean. Is he not your true love?”

     Her mother laughed, shaking her head, crouching to her level.

     “You think I’d settle for a drunk like him,” she questioned, running her fingers over her braids gently. 

     Her papa did drink a lot.

     “Why did you marry him then,” she wondered, unable to understand. 

     Her mother sighed, meeting her gaze honestly.

     “Because he comes from a well to do family, and he asked,” she replied, moving her fingers down to play with her burgundy dress. “One thing you’ve got to learn, dear Cora, is t’ never settle.” She tugged her slightly forward, drawing her into a hug. “Life isn’t about standin’ still,” she breathed into her ear, patting her back tenderly. “You’ve got to take chances, go after what you want, no matter what.”

     The chiming of the store front bell caught their attention, and her mother pulled away, standing up to smile the most radiant smile she had ever seen at a tall man with rugged dark hair and green eyes.

     “Johan,” her mother gushed, hands coming together tightly, fingers squeezing in excitement.

     “Marianna,” the man’s voice rumbled deeply in greeting. He glanced her way briefly, winked, then strode towards her mother, meeting her at the service counter.

     “How did they turn out,” he asked, gesturing towards the bundled up packages sitting upon the stained oak. “Splendid I hope?”

     “Aye, like they could be anything less,” her mother chuckled, eyes so bright and twinkling. “I’ve got all six pair done, just as you requested.”

     “Amazing,” he sighed, leaning his arms onto the counter, his large hands coming to rest upon her mother’s. “You truly are the most talented seamstress in all the lands.”

     Her mother blushed.

     Something she had never done with Papa.

     This, Cora reasoned, must be what love looks like, after all.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “Tell me about this town, this...,” his grandmother gestured to the forest, “place my daughter built.” She met his confused gaze. “I want to know this world as you do.”

     Henry drew in a deep breath.

     Was there any harm in talking to her about Storybrooke?

     “Please,” she asked gently, fingers coming together to fidget.

     He caved.

     “Well,” he began, pushing slowly to his feet, “in this land, we have a lot of...”  _ what had his mother called it _ ,...“advancements.”

     “So I’ve seen.”

     He nodded.

     “Right.” He bit his lip, collecting his thoughts. “We’ve got a government,” he stated, reasoning she wouldn’t know that.

     “And what is that?”

     “It’s a group of people. Like a..a..a council.” That she might get. “And instead of a King or Queen, we have a Mayor who is elected by the people.” He nodded his head back towards the center of town. “Which is what my mom is.”

     Well.

     Was.

     But again, he wasn’t going to tell her that.

     Because, really, he still sees his mom as Mayor.

     She was good at it, after all.

     Cora raised a brow at this information, humming in thought  _ (just like his mom does) _ and then taking a step to the right, onto the path towards the playground.

     “And do they...respect her,” she wondered.

     He hesitantly fell into step beside her, nodding.

     “Oh yeah. She like, controls everything that happens in town.”

     “Everything?”

     “Yep.” He glanced up, catching her eyes, and smiled. “Everything.”

     He didn’t miss the tentative smirk that graced her lips.

     Or the way her shoulders seemed to relax slightly.

_      Typical villains. _

_      They’re always happy when they think they have everything. _

     Taking in a deep breath, he continued on--talking about all the things Storybrooke had to offer. How Emma was made Sheriff thanks to his mom  _ (not really, but he figured Cora would buy it), _ how well he was doing in school, explaining exactly what that was.

     He talked on and on and on.

     Even as they reached the playground.

     Her glaring at, it obviously unsure what it was.

     Him taking a seat on the nearest swing, slowly moving himself back and forth.

     He was slightly surprised when she hesitantly did the same.

     But he kept on talking.

     To buy himself some time.

     And to try and understand his grandmother better.

 

*****

 

**_75 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Cora awoke with a start.

     The sound of hushed voices pulling her from her slumber.

     Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she crawled out of her little bed and padded over to her door, surprised when she spotted shadows just outside of it.

     When one of them moved towards her, she gasped and stumbled back, only to be stopped by gentle--familiar--hands.

     “Careful, love,” her mother whispered, squeezing her arms. “Come, I need t’ speak with you a moment.”

     “What’s going on,” she asked in the same soft tone, following her mother out into the dark hallway and down the steps until they were in the only lit room of the house--the kitchen.

     There, she was surprised to find Johan standing at the doorway, a cloak as dark as midnight covering his towering frame.

     Her mother glanced at the man, eyes troubled, before she sighed and crouched down to her level.

     She ran her fingers through her hair tenderly, the petite digits trembling just a bit. When they locked eyes, she could see tears springing to her mother’s unsettled gaze.

     “What is wrong,” she queried, reaching out to wipe a fallen tear from her mother’s face.

     “I have t’ go away, Cora,” she informed her, words sad, heavy.

     She felt her throat constrict along with her tiny heart.

     “What? Why?” she glanced up at the man who wasn’t her father.

     “Because I must,” her mother intoned, biting her lips to keep her emotions at bay. “But it won’t be for long,” she assured, fidgeting with the collar of her white sleeping gown. “I’ll be back in a month’s time or so to collect you.”

     “And then what,” she wondered with a frown, eyes wet with her own tears.

_      A month? _

_      Or more? _

_      Why couldn’t she stay? _

     “Then we’ll be off,” her mother replied, turning her head to meet the eyes of Johan who nodded at her uncertainty, “to a new life. A better life. Together.”

     Cora sniffled.

     She didn’t want her mother to go.

_      Why not just stay? _

_      What was wrong with this life? _

     “Please don’t go,” she sobbed, launching herself forward into her mother’s embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around her.

     “Oh Cora,” the woman sighed, rubbing her back. “I must, child,” she insisted, “I must.”

     Knowing she had no arguments left, she held as tightly as she could to her...until her mother eventually pulled her away.

     “Now be good for your papa,” she asked, patting her cheek lightly, reaching back for Johan’s hand as she stood. “And I will see you very, very soon.”

     “I love you,” Cora cried, wiping at the tears now trailing down her face, her whole body shaking with heartache.

     “I love you too,” her mother sobbed, covering her mouth to try and suppress the sound.

     With a final kiss to her forehead, her mother turned, gave Johan a nod, and then slipped into the night--their shadowy figures fading to inky nothingness past the old mill her father ran.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “And she never came back,” asked Snow White with a frown, heart aching, soul disturbed by the story Regina had just told them.

_      What kind of mother leaves her child like that? _

     “She did, actually,” the older woman replied, arms crossed, leaning against the table where Rumple’s travel bag rested. “But not to steal Cora away.”

     “Let me guess,” Emma interrupted, features drawn into a frown, hands restless on her hips, “he  _ changed _ his mind?”

     Their gazes met.

     Regina nodded with a sigh.

     Clearing her throat, she pushed some loose strands of hair away from her face and finished her tale. “Marianna returned home a broken woman. My...mother watched her waste away from a broken heart.” Her eyes flickered across them all gathered in the library. “Until she died of it a few months later.” She drew in a shaky breath. “That was the day she decided love was a weakness.” Her troubled stare settled on Rumple. “And pursued life with a..passionate vengeance.”

     The room fell silent in contemplation.

     Cora’s childhood a stark contrast to what they had all suspected.

     Except Emma, perhaps, who looked undisturbed by the revelation.

     “At least that’s what she told my father, and what he shared with me.” Regina shrugged. “Everything after that, I’m afraid only the Imp,” she nodded towards the resting man, “truly knows.”

     “Not much to tell there, dearie,” he argued, eyes shifting to his fingers playing with a tea cup he was holding. Looking a little more self aware after getting the warm drink down. “We had a brief....unpleasant,” he glanced at Belle, “affair.”

     Regina snorted.

     “That’s not what Mother suggested.”

     Rumple grimaced.

     Reaching out, Belle squeezed his forearm, their eyes meeting hesitantly.

     Taking in an unsteady breath, Rumple adjusted himself in his seat, wincing still from pain, and began his history with Cora.

 

*****

 

**_43 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Being the Miller’s daughter was hardly the life Cora had wanted.

     No longer a bright-eyed bushy tailed girl full of ignorant fancies, she was a grown woman--hard worked, undernourished, underpaid, and left tending to a dilapidated Mill with a drunk father, all on her own.

     Brushing away a loose curl from the side of her face, she stretched as she rested her cart along one of the market paths, her battered body weary from the travel into town, the heavy aged cart before her loaded down with flour.

     People glanced her way in passing, some with a look of unmasked desire, others with unwanted sympathy. She met their fleeting eyes with a hard stare, shoulders straight, hands slightly fisted.

     She knew she looked just like her mother.

     And she wanted nothing to do with the woman who had left her with nothing.

     Bitterness and anger a familiar driving force, Cora knelt, gripped the handles of her cart tightly, and continued towards the Castle in the distance--the last place on her list to deliver her goods.

 

     To say she envied the royalty milling about was an understatement.

     They had everything Cora desired--with much to spare.

     Large cobblestones, colorful--vibrant--attire, wealth beyond measure, and power.

     Absolute.

     Power.

     Destiny was much easier to forge in their hands than in her own.

     She did her best to remain unaffected by the dismissive upturned noses she often faced while visiting. Their haughtiness irked her, but it did her no good to allow them the pleasure of knowing so.

     One draws more flies with honey than vinegar.

     And Cora wanted that sweetness.

     She wanted the life they had.

     The balls, the elaborate meals, the political schemes.

     She wanted their respect.

     Like she once had.

     So very long ago.

     Setting her cart down off to the side of the steps leading to the back of the Southern Land’s Palace kitchen, Cora hefted two bags of flour up onto her shoulders, and started towards the stone stairs.

     Focused on where she was going, she was surprised--and disturbed--when she was suddenly accosted by someone rapidly descending the steps. A bag of flour, jostled loose by the collision, fell from her shoulder and landed on the tightly packed slabs, exploding flour in a circular cloud of white.

     “You imbecile,” she barked, riled by the monetary loss the wasted bag would cost her. “Can’t you see where you are going?”

     Stormy brown orbs swinging up from the disaster, she met puppy dog whiskey set in a man dressed beyond measure, and wearing the most ridiculously apologetic expression she had ever seen.

     “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, reaching down to lift the broken bag, covering his burgundy slacks and white with gold trim coat, in the fine grain.

     “Sorry won’t bring back the coinage I just lost on that,” she huffed, eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar figure.

     “What is going on here,” demanded a voice above.

     Snapping her attention towards it, Cora drew in a sharp breath, recognizing King Xavier standing atop the steps--a young woman flanking his left side.

     “It was my fault,” expressed the gentleman beside her, raising his hand appealingly to the ruler. He glanced at her, offering her a boyish grin. “I got distracted. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

     Cora had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

_      What a fool. _

     “Obviously the girl is a klutz,” tutted the young woman next to the King. “It’s the peasant who should be apologizing.”

     Cora’s nostrils flared at the insult.

     “Hardly,” she sneered back. “Had this oaf not run into me, this would have never happened.”

     “You’d do well to watch your tongue, Miller’s daughter,” King Xavier berated, staring down on them. “That is my son, Prince Henry,” gesturing to the man beside her, “and this,” he nodded to the girl, “is Princess Ava from the Northern Kingdom.”

     Cora’s stomach sank at the titles, her face flushing with embarrassment.

     But she refused to waiver under their stares.

     “My apologies,” she gritted out, eyes flickering between the three, “your Majesties. I meant no offense.”

     Prince Henry’s smile grew.

     Princess Ava’s face soured.

     The King simply continued to glare.

     “Get someone to clean up this mess, then be on your way,” he ordered, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

     She watched as he and the Princess moved on to another section of the castle.

     Prince Henry, still standing here, lifted the remains of the sack he was still holding and handed it off to a nearby servant.

     “I apologize once more,” he said, reaching out to as if to take the other sack from her, then thinking better of it. “Allow me to at least repay you the lost wage.”

     “I want nothing from you,” she muttered, handing her sack off to a kitchen girl meeting her halfway up the steps. “You should run off and do whatever,” she gestured the direct his father had gone, “it is young Prince’s do when a Princess comes to court them.”

     The man chuckled, all humor and passive demeanor. 

     “Princess Ava is hardly the type to court a man who would not be King.”

     Cora raised a brow at that.

     “I’m my father’s fifth son,” he informed her unnecessarily, “hardly a position worth seeking for a woman like her.”

     “It’s a position better than most,” she countered, coming back to her cart to grab the remaining bags of flour meant for delivery, “if one knows how to wield it.”

     “Something I suspect,” Prince Henry murmured, crossing his arms, watching her, “you would know how to do.” 

     Cora rolled her eyes at the notion.

     But didn’t argue him wrong.

     “There’s a masked ball this week,” he suddenly revealed, stroking the fine black hairs on his goatee. “If you are able, and have the right attire, you should attend.”

     At this, she laughed.

_      Was he delusional? _

     “Did you not hear who I am,” she asked, handing the last of her bags off, meeting his watchful gaze, bewildered. “I’m a Miller’s daughter. A peasant. We don’t attend Palace balls.”

     Shrugging her words off, Prince Henry clasped his hands together, looked her up and down, and departed with, “I’m sure if you want it, you’ll find a way.”

     Cora tracked his leisure escape, dumbfounded...and curious. 

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “So in this land everyone is...equal,” Cora surmised, having listened to her grandson speak for sometime.

     He was quite knowledgeable.

     Her daughter had raised him surprisingly well.

     Henry nodded, twisting himself about on the roped seat they were resting on.

     “Mostly, yeah.”

     “Mostly,” she echoed, raising a brow in question.

     “Well,” he raised his shoulders and let them drop, a horrid motion that churned Cora’s gut, “with magic back now, some people are more...are stronger than others.”

     “Like your...mothers.” She was still struggling with the idea that Regina shared her son with another woman.

     Henry nodded. “And Ruby, and the Fairies, and Mr. Gold.”

_      Bah! _

_      Reul Ghorm. _

_      That insipid sprite. _

_      Of course Regina would bring her here. _

_      Mr. Gold, hmmmm? _

     “Do you know who everyone is, young Henry” she inquired.

     His brow furrowed in thought. “Mostly. There are some people in town I haven’t figured out yet. Like, who their real identities are versus their cursed ones.”

     “And Mr. Gold,” Cora wondered, “Do you know who he is?”

     Henry nodded. “Oh yeah.” He glanced at her, pensive. “But I read that you’re not suppose to say his name.”

     “Oh? Why is that?”

     “Because if you do,” he lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret, “he might appear.”

     “Really,” she murmured, her skin prickling with phantom affection and tangible possibilities.

     “Well then,” she leaned close herself, wanting to keep him talking, “who is he here in this land?”

     “The pawn shop owner,” Henry shared. Sitting back, he frowned. “I think it’s just a fancy store for people to buy other people’s junk.”

     Cora tried not to laugh at his ignorant observation.

     “One never knows what treasures they may find in the easily discarded,” she reasoned with him, earning another one of those shoulder movements she despised.

     “I guess.”

 

*****

 

**_45 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Cora stood facing her mother’s old chest in their worn down house.

     She hadn’t touched it in years.

     But the young Prince’s words continued to ring in her ears throughout the passing days, reaching a pitch she could not ignore as the cursed hour of the ball arrived.

_      It was foolish, _ she scoffed to herself.

_      He doesn’t want you there. _

_      He’s toying with you! _

     But this was everything she could hope for.

     This was her opportunity.

     Her foot in to the life she so often dreamed of.

     Prying free the rusted lock, Cora, lifted the lid of the wooden box, and pushed back the emotions that rushed to her chest at the sight of the old ball gowns that once adorned her mother’s shop.

     Reaching in, folding dress after dress off to the side, she found the single gown that was perfect for the coming event.

     Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin.

     She could do this.

     She  _ would _ do this.

     Success, in any form, was paramount tonight. 

 

     They twirled, dipped, waltzed and spun about--their masked faces and elaborate rainbow attire making them appear as flamboyant dust travelers rather than gathered gentry and nobility.

     Cora shifted the black and red guise covering her face, the elaborate veil shaped over the bridge of her nose and brow--but leaving the rest of her face exposed. Rich black feathers crested in an arc on the right side. A single blood red rose complimented them on the left.

     Her gown--a matching shade of burgundy--hugged her figure in corset at the top, then billowed out like wild falling tendrils of cloth at the waist. Black gloves, from fingertips to elbow, adorned her muscled arms, leaving her with a sleek, mysterious, appeal.

     At the house she had felt beautiful--her long auburn curls piled delicately upon her head, a few trailing loose to lay against her right shoulder and neck.

     Here, however, she felt as out of place as ever before.

     Certain someone would spot her for the false royal that she was.

     “Would you care to dance,” inquired a familiar voice behind her.

     Cora turned to find Prince Henry, once more, in her space.

     He wore a mask of silver and white, the sharp points jutting back and off his tanned face like a flaming demi-God. His well fitted matching coat hugged and cut like armor against the visitors, making a statement of his position.

     She swallowed, nervousness rattling her innards.

     Then raised a hand, and accepted his offer.

     “Have we met,” she asked, attempting subterfuge in case he didn’t recognize her.

     “Perhaps,” he smiled, whisking her onto the dance floor, resting a hand gently on her hip. “I don’t think I would ever forget eyes like yours.”

     Cora chuckled at the words.

     Bemused.

     “Have you tried to charm all the ladies here tonight,” she wondered, glancing at the neighboring couples spinning by.

     “No,” he replied, turning her in his arms one way, then another, before drawing her back in. “Just you.”

     “Lucky me,” she murmured, completely confused by the prince.

     “Indeed,” he agreed with a smile.

     Shaking her head, but taking a steadying breath, she decided--for the moment--to enjoy herself.

     There was no telling how the night would befall.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Opening the door to his newly rented room, he tossed his single bag onto the old wood-frame bed, and closed the partition behind him--locking it, making sure it was secure, before relaxing and taking the room in.

     Hideous floral print aside, it was better than most places he had ever stayed in.

     Spying an old desk and rotary phone, he moved over to them and took a seat.

     Drawing in a shaky breath, he cuffed his hands  _ (an old nervous habit) _ , blew into them, then clapped them together.

     “Alright, August,” he muttered. “Where did you hide it?”

     Feeling around the simple piece of furniture, he drifted his fingers across seams and edges, tapping on joints and loose bolts.

     Until he felt something he could not account for.

     Pushing his chair back, he bent forward, and looked up at the underside of the single drawer the desk possessed.

     “Gotcha,” he smiled, reaching blindly for the hidden package August had concealed in a false base while residing in the room during his time in Storybrooke.

     Prying the second--slimmer--drawer free, he sat it upon the desktop, and finally eyed the contents left for him.

     There, on a bright piece of paper bound to others by an old strip of leather, was the face of his Em. 

     Hesitantly, he reached out and traced the lines of the illustration, marveling at the way she had aged, and yet how beautiful she remained.

     Tears pricked the back of his eyes, emotions always brutally at the surface, constricting his throat, blurring his vision.

     Shaking his head, trying to will them back, he sniffled, and flipped the page over.

     The second drawing revealed a well dressed woman with an unpleasant curl to her lip--the title  _ ‘Mayor, and Evil Queen, Regina Mills’ _ typed finely at the bottom of it. He memorized her features, taking note that she didn’t appear to be as old as he had expected.

     She was someone worth considering. 

     Now that he was here.

     A third page had him tilting his head in surprise...

     And raising his hands up to stroke at his face in shock.

     Black lines and tiny dots connected to form the face of a young boy, his smile ghostly familiar, his descriptive a gut punch he didn’t expect.

     “Henry Mills,” he read aloud, voice rough with conflict, “Mayor Mills adoptive son. Em-Em..,” he stuttered, his mind struggling to grasp it. “Emma’s son.”

_      Son. _

_      Emma had a son. _

_      A child. _

     “Oh my God,” he gasped, running shaky fingers through his untamed hair. “Oh my God.”

_      There was... _

_      How could... _

     Yeah, ok, so over a decade had passed since he’d last seen her, but....

_      Emma has a kid. _

     And not just any kid.

     A son.

     ..........

     One she shared with the Evil Queen Regina.

     ..........................

     It was too much.

     He just couldn’t deal with it now.

_      Why didn’t August tell me? _

_      Why did I have to find out like this? _

     .......................................................

     Dragging his hands wearily down his face, he harshly flipped the page away, unable to look at it anymore.

     But the next one seared into his heart like a memory you can never escape.

     He didn’t need to read the title below an illustration of a man holding a decorative dagger.

     He knew who he was.

     Intimately so.

     It was another reason why he was here.

     Reaching out with trembling fingers, he traced the ink--just as he had with Emma--flexing his jaw as lifetime after lifetime flickered by in his mind’s eye.

     “Hello, Papa,” he rasped into the quiet of the room, letting the tears he had shed, far too many times over, spill forth on his cheeks no longer smoothed by youth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.  
> So.  
> Marianna and a young Cora just...break my heart. I love them, and ache for them both at the same time. I felt like Cora needed more than Rumple being the reason why she feared love so much. I needed her to hurt, to be scarred and unfortunately, this is what my mind came up with.
> 
> Henry. My boy....You're doing all right. Just...keep her talking, y'know?
> 
> Emma has eluded once before that she has a bad past of crap relationships, so it stands to reason she knew Marianna's story intimately well.
> 
> I'm putting adult Cora somewhere between 17 & 20 in the flash backs. I reason she's gotta be at least in her sixties, give or take a curse, which will play a factor later on.
> 
> Dust travelers is how I refer to Gypsies. But since 'Gypsies' is in fact a derogatory term, I settled on Dust Travelers :). I even once wrote a short story about them using that new descriptive.
> 
> I like this Prince Henry. He's still passive, but charming and self aware. I wanted his ability to draw Cora's attention to be more than just his position. Any man who could remain married to her after everything she had done has to be somewhat...I don't know...guilty in a sense of accepting and encouraging things within her perhaps he shouldn't have. Not that he is responsible for how she turned out, but he is culpable for how crappy Regina's childhood was.
> 
> Now we know Baelfire has come home. And he knows Emma. Wonderful.
> 
> I apologize again for having to cut this chapter as I did. Hopefully I can get the other half up by the end of the week so you don't have a long wait to see if Rumple and Cora's story remains the same, or if I've changed it as well.


	44. The Miller's Daughter pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's dancing, candle light, laughter, caresses, and awkward tension.
> 
> Does that make this a date?
> 
> I think it's a date.
> 
> Happy weekend folks! Enjoy! :)

**_45 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     The masked ball was everything Cora had anticipated it to be.

     Royals and nobles chatted through the evening, some exchange gossip, others discussing politics. The food was plentiful, as was the drink. The warmth from the large fires burning in the massive fireplaces staved off the chill of the night. The dances, though awkward, had been entertaining, and the company she kept had been...tolerable.

     Prince Henry continuously sought her out after being dragged away by one person, or matter, after another. He wasn’t overly chatty--remained polite, yet casual. All in all, he was easy going, and manageable.

     For Cora, it was more than she could ask where the attention of another is concerned.

     Until King Xavier appeared out of nowhere.

     They were in the midst of a waltz when he interrupted.

     “Excuse me my boy,” he said, catching Prince Henry mid turn, “May I cut in?”

     He wore the mask of a devil.

     To her, it was quite fitting.

     “Of course, Father,” the man nodded off, stepping back to let King Xavier step in.

     Cora felt a chill settle in her bones.

     Her mask had held up to others because they knew not who she was to begin with. And the Prince had wanted her here.There had been no need for pretense with him.

     Xavier, however...

     “Your Majesty,” she greeted, all false cheer--but real nerves--as he moved with her, “I didn’t expect this honor.”

     “It is no honor,” he said, trailing around her slowly in line with the dance. “If you think an old gown and a stolen mask would keep me from recognizing you,” she felt her heart sink, “you should have removed the grain from your dress.” They turned to face one another. “You carry the stench of a mill with you,” his unimpressed gaze narrowed, “Miller’s daughter.”

     “You’ve got some nerve disparaging me when you’re selling off your own flesh and blood,” she spouted right back, spine tingling with trepidation, embarrassment, and anger.

     “You’re an insolent girl,” he berated, ending their charade in the middle of the crowded floor. “The kingdom has been strained by righteous wars,” he uncharastically revealed, “and we need our gold, yes.” His penetrating stare turned cruel. “But from others miles above your kind.”

     It was a slap in the face without the sting of a hand.

     She felt something slither along her nerves.

    Something cold.

     Dark.

     Hungry.

     Inviting.

     “Go,” he commanded of her, “there is nothing you can offer us here,” he sneered, removing a random fiber of wheat from her hair, “than errant strands of straw.”

     “That is nothing but delusion,” she argued defensively, feeling that unnamed current expand in her chest.

     He scoffed at her.

     Stirring the energy into a frenzy.

     “What could you possibly have to offer us,” he asked, catching the attention of those shifting around them, disrupting their steps as the waltz came to a close.

     “I can turn,” she said, chin raising, mind buzzing with a response, “that straw into gold.”

     He laughed.

     She cringed internally--ashamed at the lie, but unable--and unwilling--to take it back.

     “Really,” he mocked, waiving the frail stock between them.

     She needed to get out of there.

     Now.

     “But as you’ve insulted me,” she continued, heart pounding in her hears, a rushing sensation spreading across her skin, “you shall not reap the benefits.” Backbone straightening, she tied up her departure. “Good luck whoring your son out.”

     Four strides was all the further she got when he reached out suddenly and snagged her by the arm, holding her in a firm grip, daring her to publicly resist.

     “My loyal subjects,” his voice boomed, turning her towards him, ripping his mask off with his other hand. “We have a very special personage with us!”

     Everyone faced them.

     Her pale skin flushed crimson.

     Her fingers trembled.

     “This woman,” he gestured towards her, “tells me she can spin straw into gold.”

     Laughter echoed around her--jeering in disbelief.

     Xavier held her gaze, taunting, “And she’s going to demonstrate it for us! Fetch me a spinning wheel!”

     She swallowed the chaos burning through her being, clenching at her throat.

     “It...it takes time,” she prevaricated, “to collect my thoughts.”

     “Then stay the night,” he insisted, eyes gleaming, “in my tower, with a room full of straw.” Stepping close, voice lowering just for them. “If you spin me a rope of gold by tomorrow, Prince Henry is yours. However, if you fail,” and he obviously expected her to, “you will hang for your deceit.”

     Cora felt her breath leave her.

     But nodded her head in understanding.

  
  


     She leaned over the lip of the tower window, brown eyes narrowing as her heart sank into her gut with the waves crashing against the rocks and dock planks far, far, below.

_      I’m doomed. _

_      Foolish, foolish girl, _ she admonished herself.

_      ‘I can spin straw into gold?’ What was I thinking? _

_      And for a daft Prince no less? _

_      Foolish girl! _

     A laugh--so trill and unexpected--caught her off guard in the candle lit room full of straw and a wheel way, way, up high.

     “That’s never going to work,” followed an impish voice.

     Turning, she came face to stunning face with a leather clad man shadowed by bundled stacks around her.

     “I mean, you’ll escape,” he reasoned with humor, twiddling a strand of wheat, “but you’ll be dead.” He started forward, stepping into the light, “And that defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

     “Who are you,” she questioned, shifting away from the window sill, taking in the figure who illuminated like copper.

     Shoulder length kinked hair framed a distinguished face with penetrating eyes.

     “Who are you,” he parroted back curiously in a brogue, fingers gesturing oddly towards her.

     “Cora,” she replied curtly, wary of the man’s sudden presence in a locked room.

     “It’s not a very pretty name is it,” he tsked, face scrunching in distaste followed by a flamboyant wave of his hand. “It sounds like something breaking.”

     “How did you get in here,” she queried, drawing closer.

     The inky pulsing that had started on the palace floor within her veins began to hum in the company of this...being.

     “If you got in here,” she felt her fear--her defeat--start to abate, “then I can get out.”

     “If I understand your situate,” he countered, meeting her in the center of the room, “then this,” he pointed to the single spinning wheel in the middle, “is your way out.”

     Cora felt her heart constrict.

     Whether it was due to the proximity of the man beside her.

     Or her fate at the wheel.

     Was unclear.

     “And what a marvelous coincidence,” he exclaimed, tossing the wheat stem he held while taking a seat at the castle style treadle device, “that spinning straw into gold just so happens to be something that I like to do.” 

     She watched in rapt fascination as he fed the grain into the shaft, his foot pushing on the pedal, spinning the wheel, feeding the straw as he prattled on.

     “Yes, it’s… It’s almost like… Like… Like… Like fate.”

     “No one can spin straw into anything,” she began to argue at the notion, “and no one can make--”

     “Oh, well, well,” he cut her off, suddenly pulling a single rope of gold from between his workings fingers. “ Would you look at that?”

     Cora stared in wonder.

     The air around them thickening, buzzing with a headiness she couldn’t describe.

     Reaching out, she trailed her fingers along the fine material, feeling for herself the legitimacy of its existence.

_      How can this be,  _ she pondered.

_      Who is this man? _

     “You want to help me,” she asked hesitantly, unsure the reasoning for his appearance in the first place.

_      Surely this was a trick? _

_       An illusion to give me false hope? _

     The man giggled.

     “No, dearie, I want you to help me.”

_      Ah. _

_      A trade then. _

     This, she understood.

     “And you will,” he stated, so assured, standing from the wheel, “because the future? Is my gift.”

     She squinted in thought, not quite understanding.

     “Well,” he gesticulated wildly, “in a manner of speaking.”

     Cora raised her arms, encompassing the room around them. “What could you possibly get from me?”

     “Funny you should ask,” he snapped his fingers, making a long scroll abruptly materialize out of thin air between them, letting it fall open and long to her gaze. “Can you read?”

     Cora reached for the parchment, pushing an auburn curl that had fallen from her updo out of her eyes.

     She skimmed the document, realizing it was a lengthy--detailed--contract.

     “You want my firstborn child,” she asked, surprised by the request.

     “She is, uh, quite important,” he tittered in acknowledgement.

    “She?”

     “Yes,” he nodded, tensing, growing impatient. “Yes. I see the future. Weren’t you listening? Anyway, I only get my payment if you live past tomorrow.”

     She thought about it for a second.

     Then asked, wanting clarification, “You can turn all this straw into gold by morning?”

     He nodded, straightening like a performing bard about to tell a tale, “And you can parade in front of the royals, demanding the hand of the dimly lit Prince. You can have them kneel before you.” He winked at her. “That’s what you want, eh?” Smiling devilishly. “You want them to kneel-”

     “No,” she interrupted.

     Blunt.

     Assured.

     “...And then I-,” he stuttered in his act, turning back towards her, perplexed “No… What?”

     “Teach me,” she requested, a thrill running through her like she had never known before. “Don’t just do it. Teach me.” She lifted the contract between them coyly. “Make it part of our deal.” 

     A sly smile spread across his face as he chittered, shoulders rising in delight.

     Cora found it positively...charming.

     “You are a spicy one, aren’t you,” he stated, pupils dilating. “Oh, well,” he shrugged. Then swept his arms out in a partial bow. “Rumpelstiltskin.”

     “What,” she questioned, confused.

     “It’s my name,” he explained, standing back up. “I do believe you just earned it.”

     With a wave of his hand, the contract in hers glowed as red as her dress for a beat, before he removed a fine quill of the same color from within his jacket.

     “Now,” he said, handing it in anticipation to her, “let’s begin.”

     With a quirk of her lips, she raised the fine writing utensil.

     And sealed the deal.

     With a mere scribble of her name.

     In permanence.

  

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “I don’t know what I should be more disturbed by,” Regina said, grimacing at the history Rumple had revealed of her mother so far. “The fact that she had the audacity to use my father,” she narrowed her gaze on him, “or your opportunistic propensity.”

     “I assure you,” he gritted, eyes flickering with a shimmer that forewarned he was still in battle with himself, “only one of us was deceitful,” his upper lip curled, “and it wasn’t me.”

     “I remember King Xavier,” Snow spoke up, gaining her attention. “Cora would have been at the gallows by dawn.”

     Regina was reticent on how she felt about her grandfather.

     Her time spent at the palace had been...eventful, to say the least.

     “How does that work,” Emma asked, drawing confused stares that matched her own. “The...turning straw into gold...thingy.” Forest eyes bounced between her and Rumple. “Magic?”

     “Transmogrification, to be precise,” she concurred, pleased at the blond’s assumption.

     A smile tugged at the young woman’s lip, and she could practically hear the thought running through her head.

_      ‘Wonder if I can learn how to do that.’ _

     She bit her lip to keep her own smile at bay.

_      So much like Henry. _

     The Sheriff, however, caught the action, and raised a brow at her.

     David also, it seemed, spotted the look.

     “Wait,” he questioned, blue eyes flicking between her and Snow, “is that how you paid George for my capture?”

     She raised a brow at him. “I don’t spin gold.”

     “Yet your coffers were never empty,” Snow contested with a knowing stare. 

     She sniffed at the insinuation.

     “It’s still shitty,” Emma interrupted them, hands flexing on her hips, their eyes connecting once more, “Cora trading you off like that.”

     Her fingers tingled at the remark.

     Then Rumple chuckled, swaying their attention back to him.

     “Trust me, dearie,” he glowered, “there had been no favors exchanged there for either of us.”

     She resisted the urge to sneer at his disdain.

     To diffuse the hurt that pinched at her ego circling her heart.

 

*****

 

**_45 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     “Ugh! It’s not happening,” Cora huffed in frustration, letting the spool of thread and loose straw that spun out of the wheel fall between her fingers.

     She had been daft to think she could do this.

     “You just need to stop thinking about it,” replied Rumpelstiltskin, voice oddly considerate. “Magic,” he explained, “is about emotion.” Their eyes met, a kinship of understanding passing between them. “Summon up that moment that made you so angry,” he suggested, “you would’ve killed if you could.”

     It was a ghoulish request.

     ........................................

     But she understood it well.

     “Do you do that,” she asked softly, watching the way the candle light bouncing around them glowed across his expressive face.

     His left cheek tugged slightly at the corner of his lips, holding her gaze.

     “I do,” he murmured.

     “What’s your moment,” she queried curiously.

_      Rumpelstiltskin. _

_      A man. _

_      Yet much more. _

     “Once,” he began, “a man made me kiss his boots in front of my son.” Cora’s heart burned at the atrocity. “Now, in my mind, I go back,” his lips drew into hard grimace, “and I rip out his throat,” she blinked at the violence, “and I crunch his veins with my teeth.”

     His words were stained crimson.

     Her favorite color.

     “And that, dearie,” he finished, “is how magic is made.”

     “Bloodlust,” she whispered.

     Stirred.

     “I like the phrase,” he hummed, moving suddenly to settle behind her, placing unsuspecting--gentle--hands on her shoulders. “Let me help you.” 

     The hairs on the exposed nape of her neck raised in awareness, that now ever present unnamed sensation flaring to life like a stoked fire.

     Her pulse started to gallop.

     Her stomach clenched in anticipation...or fear...she was unclear which.

     Her nostrils flared, the scent of brine and earth filling her senses.

     “They made me apologize,” she revealed as he ran his fingers down the back of her arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I didn’t do anything wrong yet I was embarrassed publically,” lips, so faint, brushed along the top of her shoulder, catching her breath, “like a scolded child.” She trembled as a sharp nose nuzzled against her neck, ghosting up behind her right ear. “I realized then, no matter how good I was, or how hard I worked… I was never going to be more than I am now.”

     She wrapped her fingers around the strands of straw at the wheel, guiding them in like she had a lifetime of skill behind it, coaxing the mechanism into motion once again.

     “What do you want to do to them,” he husked at her ear, hands coming to rest upon her waist.

     “I want to make them bow,” she realized, her emotions bubbling into a clarity of action. “I want their kneecaps to crack and freeze on the stones. I want their necks to break,” she gritted the word out, eyes focused on an unseen point while her fingers worked, “from bending.”

     “Look,” he requested, drawing her from the self induced torrent.

     Eyes unsteady, she glanced down to the thread between her nimble digits.

     And gasped.

     There, of her own will, was a strand of pure glittering gold.

     “I did it,” she uttered, relief, exhilaration, power, racing through her. “I’m going to live.”

     “You’re going to do much more than that, dearie,” he promised, lips grazing the skin of her cheek, his frame pressing closer. “Don’t stop,” he coaxed, flushing himself in a way so wanton her chest heaved with a rush of desire. “Until they are on their knees.”

     Prince Henry was a forgotten consideration.

     Rumpelstiltskin smoldered with unbridled passion.

     ....................................

     And she wanted more.

     “Let’s keep going then,” she rasped, returning her attention to their spinning, her body lit like a wick, yearning to burn itself out.  “Dawn is fast approaching.”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     “You can’t go in there,” Henry said, stopping Cora with his words as she reached towards the door under the plaque that read ‘Mr. Gold, Pawnbroker & Antiquities dealer’.

     “Why not,” she demanded, glowering at her grandson.

     She had eventually tired of their time in the woods, urging the young boy back into town.

     Her coveted concealment was over.

     It was time to address the matters she had come here for.

     “Because it’s closed,” he replied in exasperation, nodding towards the small sign before her that stated the case. “You’ll have to wait until business hours.”

     Her nose crinkled at the notion, displeased.

     “All right,” she conceded, stepping back onto the walking path beside Henry. “Perhaps it is time I return you to your mother.” She glanced around, spotting the eatery she had seen Regina at earlier. She gestured towards the building. “I believe she was residing in there last I saw.”

     “Which one,” her grandson questioned, falling into step beside her, fidgeting his hands in his pockets. 

     “My daughter of course.”

     As if she would ever bring herself to refer to the White Princess as... _ mother. _

     Henry nodded, eyes darting about as they proceeded.

     She could smell the anxiety building in him.

     “What is it,” she questioned, stopping them shy of crossing the ‘street’ as Henry called it.

     “Nothing,” he replied quickly, eyes widening just a bit.

     She narrowed her gaze, trying to decipher his growing emotional state.

     Did he know something she did not?

     “Are you hungry,” he suddenly asked, pulling her from her observation. 

     “No,” she replied curtly, moving to cross the hard surface now that no ‘cars’ were passing.

     “Oh.” He paused for a second, then trotted ahead of her, turning to walk backwards, meeting her dissatisfied stare. “Well I am.” To the point. “So I was thinking of getting some fries or...a...a cheeseburger.”

     Cora frowned. “I have no idea what those are.”

     Henry smiled, full cheeks stretching. “Then you’ll have to try them to find out.”

     Reaching the establishment, Cora took a moment to brace herself for whatever may occur inside. Undoubtedly Regina knew she had taken Henry by now. She would be...understandably...unhappy, with her actions.

     Drawing in a deep breath, she took the steps one at a time--as commanding and as gracious as the Queen she was--and entered the so called ‘Diner’, Henry right behind her.

 

*****

 

     Emma did her best not to noticeably make a face.

     Truly she did.

     But the thought of ‘Spinning straw into gold’ being a euphemism for...for...

_      Nope. Uh uh. Not going there. Just...Nope. _

     She chanced a glance at Regina.

     The brunette, for all her dismissively casual facade, looked pale.

     And a bit green.

     It was just...

_      Uck. _

     Shifting her gaze to Belle, she was somewhat unsurprised to find the Princess staring at Rumple in understanding and...and...sympathy?

_      Jesus. _

_      Is he the beast? _

_      Is that their story? _

     She kinda knew most of the fairy tales--the Disney versions at least. But Belle wasn’t a Princess in that version...just a bookworm who may or may not have a beastiality fetish. She was never quite clear on that as an adult.

_      God, it was so quiet. _

     No one was looking at them, or one another, except her.

_      Somebody fucking say something. Please! _

     Regina, unexpectedly, cleared her throat.

     Emma watched as she raised a finger and opened her mouth, about to retort...but then paused, as if dumbstruck...before snapping her jaw shut and folding her hand back into the crook of her arm--a scowl settling onto her face.

     Emma let out a groan.

     But was thankfully cut off from being embarrassed when her cell suddenly started blaring.

     Yanking the device out of her coat pocket, she saw it was Ruby, and hit the answer key.

     “What’s up,” she asked, turning to look out the library window towards the restaurant in the distance.

     “You need to get here,” the waitress said, no if ands or buts in her voice. “Now.”

     Panic bursting through her system, she darted her eyes towards Regina and replied, “On our way.”

     They didn’t even have to speak.

     She knew.

     They both knew.

     It could only be one thing.

     “Stay,” she ordered her parents, brooking no argument as the brunette quickly gathered herself. “I need you to be here,” she glanced towards Mr. Gold and Belle, “just in case.”

     They frowned.

     Once more unhappy with her.

     But nodded in understanding.

     “Come,” Regina commanded, not giving her the chance to question as she gripped her by her forearm.

     One second they were still facing her parents.

     The next.

     In a chaotic lavender furry.

     They were in Granny’s spinning Diner.

     Emma slammed into the counter, head buzzing, eyes swimming as she tried to regain her balance.

_      Jesus Christ! _

_      Did they just..? _

_      Did she....? _

     Hearing her name over the ringing in her ears, Emma blinked repeatedly, clearing her vision just enough to spot Henry a few seats down, a fry soaking in a milkshake before him.

     ...................................

     Then she smelled her.

     Eyes snapping to the aisle between stools and booths, Emma straightened and pushed off the counter to bump side by side into Regina, taking a menacing step slightly in front of her.

     “Cora,” she growled, hackles raised, hands clenching.

     “Hello darling,” the older woman--dressed for the times--replied, looking right past her.

     Looking straight at...

     ...a stunned Regina.

     “Mother.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, the entire time I was writing Cora and Rumple's little love fest I was hearing "Lay It All On Me" by Rudimental featuring Ed Sheeran in my head. They are just...deadly in a kind of hedonistic way. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, but it was hella fun to write.
> 
> Oh Regina...I wonder how many times you questioned your parentage.
> 
> I kind of like Henry and Cora. I think something is shifting there for the Queen of Hearts. I'm not sure what yet, but Henry is such a wild ace with people, it's hard to say how exactly my next planned events will turn out due to this.
> 
> Lol, Emma! Same, girl. I feel the same.


	45. The Miller's Daughter pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the longer than average delay between chapters. I had to take a mini break from writing. Words had stopped making sense and my brain was so muddled I couldn't even type a proper sentence.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and comments. Both are greatly appreciated :).
> 
> On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Every inch of Emma was taunt, ready to lay this bitch out with one solid hit.

     But Regina’s rigid stance and expression--frozen by the reality of her mother actually being here, in person, in Storybrooke--had her holding back.

     No matter how much she really, really, hated it.

     Silence fell around them, all eyes in the diner focused on the confrontation.

     Breaths held in anticipation.        

     Or fear.

     It was likely an equal mix.

     Cora, oblivious--or uncaring--took a step forward and Emma instantly matched it, putting herself directly in the old Witch’s path.

     The action seemed to break Regina from her trance.

     “What the hell are you doing here,” were the first words snapping out of her mouth--far more commanding than any Mayoral tone she had used before.

     Fingers coming to rest on her left shoulder, Emma took the cue to slide aside, watching as the brunette--chin raised--glared at her mother. She felt, however, the slightest trembling in the grazing touch, and remained wary.

     Cora matched the stare, though her features arranged themselves into one of expressive, tentatively false, hope.

     “I’ve come to see you,” she replied, eyes gauging her daughter’s reaction, measuring her words like any manipulative psycho would. “To make amends.” Emma snorted in disbelief. Cora’s eyes narrowed. “A long and arduous journey, you should know.”

     “And you decided what,” Regina snarked, “that kidnapping  _ my son _ ,” she growled, teeth clenching, “was the perfect way to reacquaint us?”

_      Ours. _

     The word flickered through Emma’s mind without conscious effort, taking her by surprise.

_      What the fuck? _

_      ‘He’s my kid too.’ _

     She glanced at the woman beside her, wondering if she had somehow sensed the thought and the memory evoked by it. Their gazes met for half a second, and she bit her lip--brow drawing into a unsettled frown--as she saw the possessive conflict battling admits murky honey brown orbs so reminiscent of that day at the mines.

     “A mistake on my part.” Cora’s words brought them back to the situation at hand. She clasped gnarled fingers in front of herself, gaze lowering, posture a smidge reticent. “One I regretted almost instantly and made quick to correct.” She turned towards Henry, offering him a tight smile Emma didn’t buy for a second.

     Her and Regina checked with the boy, matching expressions asking the same question.

     “I’m ok,” he squeaked, fidgeting on his seat at all the attention, meeting their concerned stares. “Honest.”

     Reassured that Henry was all right, they focused back on Cora. 

     “I simply wanted to get to know my grandson,” she tried to defend, posture stiffening, “before all of this,” she gestured between the three of them, “came about.”

     “I warned you,” Emma sneered, the air starting to vibrant against her skin at the recollection of their last encounter--heart constricting, chest heaving. “I told you to stay the  _ fuck  _ away!”

     “And I told you,  _ Princess _ ,” Cora spat, eyes burning with contempt, “that I would let  _ nothing _ stand in my way of getting here.”  

     “Enough,” Regina barked, the word cracking like a whip.

     Neither of them backed down.

     But Emma conceded to whatever action Regina wanted to take next.

     “You want me mother?”

     The unexpected questioned caused her to dart her forest orbs to the brunette, disturbed, unsure what she was up to.

     “Then you are going to do things my way,” she declared, leaving no room for argument.

     Cora raised her head, considering her options, studying her daughter’s unwavering posture. Emma could practically smell the displeasure and resentment coursing through her at the ultimatum.

     It was a turnabout in power, no doubt.

     “Fine,” replied the Wonderland Queen, as if the decision wasn’t going against her very nature.

     Emma didn’t miss the lupine smile that graced Regina’s face.

     It lit something still flaming within her like kindle waiting for a match.

     Making her skin tingle.

     Her toes flex.

     “Your cuffs, Sheriff,” she requested--hand out with a haughty expression.

     Emma, all too happy to oblige, felt her leg starting to jiggle like it had done earlier in the woods as she passed her cuffs to the older brunette.

     Watching in growing satisfaction--Cora’s face hardening rapidly in regret--she followed Regina’s fingers as they reached into her coat pocket, took out the spell they had created, and wrapped it around her metal heavy metal linked shackles.

     They glowed a soft lavender for a few seconds, filling the static air with the scent of cinnamon and rain, before fading back to normal.

     The former Mayor returned them to Emma, instructing, like the Queen she still was, “Arrest her, please, for criminal impersonation, and kidnapping.”

     A devilish grin spreading across her own features, Emma popped one of the links open. “Gladly, your Majesty,” she said, stepped toward the witch.

     “Really, Regina. Is this necessary” Cora asked, not exactly resisting, but not giving easily to Emma as she snapped the first cuff, then the other, over her thin wrists--the sting of light magic impeding any use of her own. “You accuse me of misstepping yet you are arresting your own mother in front of your son?”

     “In this land your actions are a chargeable offence that requires immediate detainment,” the brunette informed her. “And trust me,  _ mother, _ ” she snarled, leaning forward, lowering her voice so only her and Emma could hear, “this is  _ far _ more kind than what I  _ truly _ want done to you.”

     Whiskey eyes, pulsing with purple light, projected every ounce of hurt and hate felt towards the older woman.

     Surprisingly, Emma saw a flicker of an emotion she couldn’t place pass through Cora’s matching orbs.

     If she hadn’t spent so many years bouncing from one shitty foster parent to another, most just like her, she would feel a sliver of sympathy for the wretched woman.

     But she didn’t.

     “Take her away,” Regina grounded out, stepping back to compose herself.

     Emma gripped the Queen of Hearts by the arms, forcing her forward--taking a small delight when she grumbled at the unkind handling--and reciting her rights because she wasn’t going to give the fairy tale monster any room to contest this action.

     She knew what she was capable of. She saw it in Mr. Gold, and her past interactions with Regina. If there were any loopholes, any at all, she would find them.

     And they couldn’t afford that.

     Not one bit. 

 

     Her chest buzzing with an array of emotions, she watched as the pair walked out of Granny’s and down the street towards the station, before letting out a strangled breath she had been holding. Her fingers were trembling where they compulsively flexed into the palm of her hands, nails biting, grounding her admits the storm within herself that her mother always caused with her presence.

     She wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen here.

     There were so many thoughts, so many emotions, it was just a swirl of chaos.

     Then Cora had greeted her, stepping forward like the last twenty plus years of separation had never occurred.

     Like she has never shoved her into that looking glass.

     Like she had never stolen her father back from her mother’s clutches in Wonderland.

     And then Emma broke plane between them.

     All blond hair, fierce eyes and wildly aggressive magic.

     So much magic.

     It snapped her of the haze, bringing her back to the single reason they had been summoned in the first place.

     “Are you sure you’re alright,” she husked, turning to face Henry, crossing the distance between them in just a few short strides.

     The anxiety tugging away at her gut released a little as he shyly bobbed his head, whining just a bit when she publicly threaded her fingers through his hair.

     “I’m good, mom, promise,” he shrugged her off, eyes darting to Ruby who gave him a teasing smile and a wink.

     “Excuse me for caring,” she muttered, a bit hurt by his indifference.

     He may have not be worried, but she had been.

     She knew her mother.

     How cruel and cold she could be.

     A tiny hand gripped hers, and she glanced up to find an apologetic look on his face.

     “Really, mom, I’m ok.”

     She squeezed.

     He squeezed back.

     “I’m sorry she betrayed you like that,” she said, nodding in the direction the school was from their spot in the diner. “And that she managed to get to you at all before myself or Emma could protect you.”

     He crinkled his nose in thought, mirroring his birth mother. “It was kind of weird,” he revealed. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t really you.” She listened intently as hazel eyes met hers. “She  _ looked _ like you, but she didn’t smell or talk like you.” His gaze fell to the counter top where restless fingers played with condensation left behind by his half finished milkshake. “And she wasn’t exactly...nice when we teleported to the pirate ship.”

     Regina’s nerves clenched, hot white fury and shame racing through her.

     “Was she always like that,” he asked softly, nervous eyes flickering to judge her reaction, “with you? Is she always so...cold?”

     She sighed, heart pulsing at the question.

_      Oh Henry. _

_      ................. _

     But nodded.

     Words too caught up in her chest to voice them aloud.

     ......................................................................................

     A clearing of a throat pulled her from their conversation.

     Looking up, she found Red tilting her head, motioning towards the hallway near the bathrooms.

     “I’ll be right back,” she told her son, touching his shoulder gently, “I’m going to speak to Ruby for a moment.

     Walking away from prying eyes and ears, she met the young waitress where the hallway and bathrooms joined, the brunette surprising her as she reached out to grasp her by the forearm and guide her inconspicuously into a side office she assumed was Granny’s.

     “We have a...problem,” Red said, closing the door slightly behind them, voice just a hair’s breadth above a whisper.

     “Besides my mother,” she queried, wondering if she had found out about Rumple or not.

     It was hard to say in this realm.

     Gossip traveling faster than light and all that.

     “Yeah,” she replied, pulling a few slips of paper from inside her apron and handing them to her.

     She read the name scribbled on the check-in list for the B&B, then a VIN number written in the waitresses handwriting along with a description of a vehicle.

     “Who is Neal Cassidy,” she asked, frowning.

     “A visitor,” Red explained, crossing her arms restlessly across her chest. “From out of town.”

     Her eyes snapped up to meet hers, a knowing look on her face.

     “How,” she wondered aloud.

     Emma and her had just checked the barrier a few days ago.

     It was as strong as ever.

     No one, save Emma and August Booth, has ever arrived in this town.

     Until now.

     “I don’t know,” Red sighed, nodding towards the papers she still held, “but I double checked the name and VIN numbers he gave. Guys from New York. Has held the same address for the last five years.”

     Thoughts ping-ponging from one possibility to another, Regina settled her distant gaze on the hideous wallpaper lining the room.

     “Is he one of us,” she questioned.

     The younger woman hummed in contemplation for a moment. “It’s possible. He smells like town, but I don’t know if that’s because magic is in this world now or not.”

     Regina nodded.

     That was understandable.

      “Watch him,” she bidded the wolf, knowing she didn’t really have to, that Red completely got why a stranger in town was very,  _ very _ , unnerving. “I’ll take this,” she waved the papers, folding them and placing them into her pocket, “and have Emma run a thorough background check on him as soon as possible.”

     “You got it,” the younger woman saluted, offering her a cheeky grin to alleviate the severity of their conversation.

     Regina met her impish behavior with an eye roll, but uncharacteristically reached out to squeeze her bicep in thanks. The action surprised them both, but she made no show of it--leaving Ruby to blush and chuckle in her grandmother’s office--as she returned to Henry.

 

*****

 

     “You have orchestrated yourself into quite the position, haven’t you,” gritted out Cora, humiliation flushing her already blushed cheeks as she was lead, like the prisoner she was, towards the holding cells of her daughter’s province.

     “What,” asked the blond, her grip tightening, more firm than the witch felt was necessary while they crossed a street.

     “Not only have you earned solidarity alongside my daughter, but you managed to convince her to give you agency over her people on a local level,” Cora eyed the White Kingdom heir, a glint of malice flickering in her gaze, “ a crude machiavellian nature for such a... _ homely _ Princess.”

     Emma Swan yanked open the doors of a single level building and dragged her forward, face hardening at her words.

     “I didn’t manipulate Regina into anything,” the blond bit back, manhandling her down a long echoing hallway. “I  _ earned  _ this position,” she stated, spine straightening, chest puffing out, “and you have  _ no idea _ who I am.”

     Green eyes rimmed by white shimmering light glared at her as their gazes briefly met while turning a corner.

     The Swan Princess was every bit as hard and rough around the edges as the callouses on her fingers. It told of hard work, of strife and failures. It spoke of simple living, meager gains, and a constant war of wills.

     It disturbed her.

     A sensation of familiarity, of--dare she think it--comparability to her own upbringing, wrapping around her bones.

     Cora felt her anger and resentment begin to flounder.

     Caught up as she was in her own thoughts, that before she realized what was happening, she was on the other side of a set of bars, the loud clanging of them being shut in her face jarring her from her cogitation.

     A suffocating silence drifted between them for a few beats, Cora eyeing Emma Swan in a new light--said woman studying her with her own look of contemplation.

     “Whatever game you are playing, drop it,” the Sheriff finally said, tone low, words heavy with warning. 

     She bristled.

     “One chance.” The blond raised a finger, meeting her stare. “One, is all you are getting, Cora,” she pressed herself to the bars, dropping her next words into a hiss, “or I’ll permanently remove you from  _ my son _ and Regina’s life, for good.” Stormy green met indignant brown. “Understood?”

     She refused to respond.

     Raising her chin, she just glared the blond and her threat down.

     Unaffected, the Swan Princess turned her back on her, walking away, leaving her to the single cell and cot in the large empty structure.

     It was...isolating...and unnerving.

     Drawing in a ragged breath, Cora moved over to the bed, glowered at it, then sat herself down, resigned to wait out her daughter’s little temper tantrum.

 

*****

 

     They met back up in front of the library.

     Emma shaking herself--feeling strung out.

     Regina wringing her hands, strides long, firm, in agitation.

     “Any problems,” asked the brunette, words sharper than intended.

     Emma shook her head, “No, but I need a moment.” She gestured towards the door just feet away. “Don’t wanna go barging in there all...” she motioned towards herself, “y’know?”

     Regina nodded.

     She understood well.

     “How’s Henry, for real,” the blond asked, running her fingers through her wild curls.

     “He’s fine,” she replied, releasing a shaky breath, rolling her shoulders to try and release the tension in them. “He’ll stay with Ruby for now.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the papers the waitress had given her. “Which reminds me.” She handed them to Emma, a curious look on her face. “We’ve got another...situation.”

     “What now,” sighed the Sheriff wearily, taking the folded papers, reading the VIN number on top and the car description going with it.

     “A visitor.”

     Emma raised a brow. “Like August?”

     Regina nodded. “He’s taken up his former room at the B&B, in fact.”

     “How is that even possible,” questioned the younger woman, brow furrowing. She remembered the car from earlier, the way it had break checked the vehicle behind it as she passed by. 

     The brunette shook her head. “I don’t know. For now, we’ll keep an eye on him while we deal with mother.”

     Not even looking at the other slip of paper beneath the other, not caring at the moment who this new stranger is, Emma slipped the notes into her back pocket.

     “I’ll check him out later,” she confirmed Regina’s unspoken request.

     Settled as best she could be, the former Mayor pointed towards the library door. “Ready?”

     Emma nodded, hands habitually going to her hips. “Lead the way.” 

 

*****

 

     Snow felt a wave of relief wash through her as the door just behind her and David opened to reveal first Regina, then Emma. It was startling for a moment how common of a sight it had been to her over the last year. Them talking at the school, on the sidewalk, at the station, the hospital, the front porch of the mansion, town hall, the apartment, the diner--so on and so on.

     It was as if they were stuck in each other’s orbit, beyond Henry being their  _ (pun intended) _ son.

     Something tangible.

     Something...she didn’t want to think about at this moment.

     “Cora,” David asked beside her, apprehensive.

     “Sitting uncomfortably in a cell at the station,” their daughter replied, a smug grin breaking across her face.

     “You arrested her?” She turned her surprised gaze towards her former step-mother, intimately familiar with their family dynamic.

     “She kidnapped Henry,” Regina stated, as if it was explanation enough.

     Snow bit her lip from questioning anymore.

_      Fair enough.   _

     Rumple, who seemed to regain some semblance of himself in the time that had passed since their departure--scoffed.

     “Really, dearie,” he tsked, disappointed in his former pupil. 

     “Yes, really,” she glared at him. “For the moment, mother is detained, just as we need her to be.”

     He narrowed his eyes, gaze darting between Regina and Emma, sizing them up as if there was something there only he could see.

     “What now,” asked Belle, leaning against the desk that still held the bag the Imp had been carrying.

     “Now, we find her heart,” Emma replied, stepping forward. 

     “So finish your tale,” Regina demanded, holding Rumple’s stare as he stiffened. “Tell us what you know.”

 

*****

 

**_45 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     Rumpelstiltskin watched, draped in a cloak, as a vibrant Cora spun a magnificent thread of gold between King Xavier and his court.

     Pride and desire coursed through him.

_      Never _ had he met someone with so much potential as her.

     He had foreseen the capabilities of her daughter. Had planned to only use the miller girl as a means to her destined child.

     But now.

     Now there was opportunity for more.

     For her.

     For himself.

     “Did you really do it,” questioned the ruler of the Southern Lands, running the strand between his own fingers. “But you’re just a Miller’s daughter,” he muttered, eyeing Cora in bewilderment.

     “I am so much more,” she replied, chin raised--radiant with growing power.

     Rumple felt a tickle in his chest, like fingers caressing his heart.

     He smiled.

     “Then you have earned him.” Xavier motioned towards his insipid son.

     The Dark One observed as he came around his father to kneel before Cora, grasping her hand gently, kissing it in reverence.

     “Please,” he asked softly, dopey eyes wide, “will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

     Honey orbs met his for a split second among the throng of whispering spectators.

     His breath caught, even as he knew what she would say.

     “Yes,” she answered, gaze darting back down to the Prince before her.

     But her response was not meant for him, even as it put into motion her own future plans.

     Rumple’s heart stuttered.

     Their gazes meeting again.

     A sly smile spread across Cora’s face as others began to gather around her, congratulating her on her success.

 

*****

 

     She was a splendor in corseted off white, stones glittering in torches and streaming daylight while they both eyed her reflection in an elegant mirror.

      “Enjoying the view as much as I am,” he asked, happily striding towards her, catching her by surprise with a kiss as she spun into his arms.

     His entire being buzzed with electricity as their lips met. He hummed in satisfaction.

     “How dare you,” she gasped in mock offense, pulling away just slightly, a coy smile gracing her face. “I’m a married woman.”

     “Not yet,” he reminded her, loving the feel of her gloved hands clutching at his shoulders, “the wedding is tomorrow.”

     “Mmmm, then that’s alright,” Cora murmured, meeting him again and again for kiss after kiss.

_      Gods, had it ever been like this with Milah? _

     He couldn't recall, it had been so long ago. 

     “Love,” he stated, drawing back, “the dress,” to take her in once more.

     “Well brides have to be snow white,” she replied, and he chuckled.

     “When you see the future, there is irony everywhere.”

     He took a seat on a red plush chair, still admiring her state of elegance.

     “You know, I thought I wanted this,” she said, lifting the hem of her dress, features going slightly pained. “White and bright, all the admiration.” Her brows furrowed. “But then I look at it.” She lifted her billowing skirt and closed the distance between them. “Fifth in line to be Queen.” She toyed with her fingers. “That won’t happen without a lot of bloodshed.” She looked at him, a mix of emotions flickering across her face. “And then there is what you can give me.”

     He felt hope flicker within him.

      Along with a crashing sense of reality.

     Want warring with truth.

     He reached out tenderly for her hands. “I can give you nothing,” he answered honestly, “but darkness, and isolation.”

     “And love,” she querie in the softest voice he had ever heard her utter.

     His chest squeezed.

     Then expanded with something...something heated and stirring...something other than the coldness that had seeped into his bones since he had claimed the power with that dagger centuries before.

     “Yes,” he replied, just as soft, “and love.”

     Cora leaned forward, eyes sparkling, fingers gripping his.

     “I want that,” she revealed.

     So raw.

     So open.

_      As do I. _

     More than he realized, until just now.

     “What if I, uh,” he started, urging her back gently, standing from his perch, “amended our contract?” He let her hands go, pacing around her slightly, mind rapidly moving through probabilities. “What if, instead of owing me some random first born child,” he rolled off his tongue, pausing to gesture towards himself, “you owe me... _ my _ child.”

     His heart thundered in his ears.

     All he could think about was Bae.

     How much he missed him.

     How far he had come.

     How much work he had committed to at this point.

     But if...IF....

     “I can do that,” Cora confirmed with a reassuring nod, a matching need in her gaze.

     “As can I,” he promised, reaching for her hands once more.

     Heart swelling, and swelling, and swelling. 

     “Rumple, can we really do this,” his beauty wondered with growing hope. “Can we really have this?”

     “If you truly wish it,” he affirmed, anxious at the notion, but filling with anticipating prospects. 

     Nothing could stop them.

     Not if they didn’t want it to.

     “There is one thing,” Cora sighed, shoulders slumping as she took stock of their situation.

     “What?”

     “The King.” Her gaze grew troubled with fury. “He humiliated me. He made me feel the way you showed me I never have to feel.” She tilted her head slightly. His heart picked up its staccato pace. “I want to kill him.” He held his breath at the admittance. “I want,” she leaned forward, “to show him his heart, before I do it. So he can see it, and know what I’m doing...as I  _ crush _ it.”

     His entire world narrowed.

     His pulse racing.

     His soul burning with...with...

     “That is why,” he growled in twisted delight, “I love you.”

     Cora pressed a heated palm to his leather clad chest at the declaration.

     Eyes so, so, bright.

     “Show me,” she husked as he placed his hand atop of hers.

     “I will show you everything,” he promised, a vow he had never made to anyone before now.

     And never would again.

     He hoped.

     “Then I’ll do it tonight,” she devised.

     He couldn’t be more pleased.

     “Let’s seal that promise,” he requested, meeting her lips in a fiery embrace.

     There was no rushing of light.

     Of sweet smelling magic.

     Or overwhelming cheerful haze.

     That wasn’t them.

     That wasn’t where their needs entwined.

     Instead, a heady mix of ecstasy coated by slippery darkness snaked between them, coiling in their guts, slithering around their hearts--sinking deadly needle like teeth into their tainted souls.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke - Present_ **

 

     Regina didn’t know what to say or think.

     She had never witnessed such...restrained emotions in her former mentor before. 

     Yes, she knew Rumple and her mother had an intimate relationship but...the notion of... _ love _ existing between them was just...

     She glanced at Belle, wondering now what the younger woman thought.

     Because her mother had obviously not been capable of breaking the Dark One’s curse. Only the meek Princess had come close to that, which stated to her how deep the emotions between the Master and his once imprisoned maid had run.

     In consideration of her childhood as she knew her mother at the time, it made sense.

     Cora didn’t love anyone but herself.

     Period.

     However...Rumpelstiltskin...he had loved.

     More than he wanted to express.

     More than Belle could reasonably handle, if her conflicted fidgeting was anything to go by.

     More, perhaps, than her mother could embrace.

     Or just not enough--she considered on the flip side.

     Especially since it was obvious that something had gone wrong.

     That Cora had changed her mind.

     Possibly even had it changed for her.

     “I guess you regret teaching her that particular skill set now, don’t you,” Emma stated, breaking the intruding silence, eyes set on Rumple.

     He sneered at her.

     But Emma held her ground, fingernails digging into the palm of her fisted hands with bitterness. Regina cleared her throat, catching their attention before a bickering match could start.

     “What happened,” she inquired, eyes darting between the Imp and Belle, “What went wrong?”

     The seated man lowered his gaze, palms restless upon his legs.

     “I don’t really know,” he answered, tone resigned. “But I suspect King Xavier made Cora an offer she...couldn’t refuse.”

 

*****

 

**_45 Years Ago - The Enchanted Forest_ **

 

     He waited outside the palace grounds, the cover of twilight concealing him from the groundsmen on patrol as he paced under a towering pine.

     His palms were sweating.

     He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever been this nervous.

     Cora had asked for privacy in handling the Southern Land’s King.

     She wanted to take his life on her own, to snuff out his light with her bare hands and self harnessed darkness.

     So here he was.

     Waiting.

     Wondering.

     Hoping for what could come next.

     The tingling sensation of someone approaching drew him from his ruminations.

     Turning, he watched as Cora approached--hair down, dressed in a cloak of white, an ornate chest resting in her hands.

     “I was beginning to grow concerned,” he joked, features furrowing slightly as she quirked a brow in response.

     An unexpected wave of uncertainty rushed over him.

     “Well here I am,” she stated, more subdued than he anticipated.

     They met for a kiss...

     And then he knew.

     “Something’s not right,” he drew back, eyeing her critically, warning bells going off in his head, a chill running up his spine.

     He was missing something

     A shift.

     A change.

     Something.

     “Yes, you’re correct,” Cora affirmed, piercing his heart with a stare of indifference.

     The change in her approach was jarring.

     “Well wh-what happened,” he asked, stuttering, perplexed. “Couldn’t you take the King’s heart?”

     “No, I was able to do it,” she replied, and he felt pride swell in him at her success. “But I  _ chose _ not to.”

     He took a step back.

     Dumbstruck.

     Rattled by her decision.

     “Huh,” was all he could mutter, at a loss.

     What was going on?

     Cora reached out and gently stroked the side of his face, eyes glistening with faint tears. “I’m sorry, dear Rumple,” she said, his gut filling with dread, “but I’m not going with you.” He was speechless. “You see, I have a wedding to go to.” No. No this wasn’t what they had agreed upon. “My own.”  

     Fear like he hadn’t known in sometime, burned through his veins.

     Quickly being chased by rage.

     “Whose heart,” he asked, pointing to the chest she was still clutching, “is in the box?”

     “Don’t make this harder,” Cora pleaded, taking a step back.

     “You lied to me,” he accused, hackles raised in growing realization. “Whose heart,” he demanded.

     Silence stretched for a beat.

     “Mine,” his love finally replied, shattering his world.

     Stunned, he stumbled back from her.

     “I had to,” she defended vehemently, as if her betrayal was justified. “You told me not to let anything stop me until they were on their knees.” The use of his own words against him bit sharply into his skin. “My _ own heart _ ,” Cora swore, “was stopping me.”

     He just couldn’t believe it.

     Couldn’t accept it.

     No matter how true it all was standing right in front of him.

     “You never loved me,” he rasped, emotions churning. “Never!” He back peddled a few more steps, needing distance, both mentally and physically. “You won’t get away with this,” he reminded her, “we had a contract! I’ll take your baby!”

_      How dare she! _

_      HOW DARE SHE! _

     “You changed the contract, Rumple,” Cora replied softly, cutting him deep. “You only get your own child.” A tear trickled down her pale cheek, taunting him with feelings he knew now she couldn’t possibly possess. “And any baby I have, won’t be yours.”

     The stillness of the night was all that was left between them.

     It stank of loss and deception.

     Of hurt and regret.

     It was pungent.

     Nauseating.

     .................

     He would never be able to forget it.

     Not the moment.

     Not the sensations.

     And not the Miller’s daughter who had used his own heart, and hers, against him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Regina's meeting was...about as politically civil as they could create considering the circumstances. Had it JUST been them (like ONCE did) I'm sure, yes, it would have been more emotional and manipulative. But if Cora wants anything outside of Regina, be it Rumple's dagger, or a position of power, or even--surprisingly--her family, it all requires the right kind of chess move. She tried things on her own. She tried them with Hook. Now, she has to try them at Regina's level, play the game, and see what options come about.
> 
> Oh Rumple.
> 
> Honestly, I feel for him. I know what it's like to be manipulated, to be lied to, to have someone use their love for you as an excuse to justify why they are betraying you. It's beyond gut wrenching. It shatters pieces of your own sense of self, of your trust, of your structured being. It's why, I think, he struggles so hard with Belle.
> 
> Now...it all begs the question...where is the box containing Cora's heart?
> 
> And when will Emma check out the name of the stranger new in town?
> 
> How long will the magic on the cuffs last?
> 
> And will Rumple be alright? Or is him being compromised the perfect opportunity for Hook to strike?


	46. Of Chests...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but all kinds of sweet :).
> 
> Well, ok, maybe that's a bit of lie on the sweet part.
> 
> How about crazy?
> 
> Yeah. That'll work. All kinds of crazy!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “A box.”

     That was all Emma could think to say, glancing at the slightly stunned expressions around her.

     Because....really?

_      A box? _

_      Cora ripped her own heart out from her chest and stored it in a..a..jewelry box? _

     Rumple nodded and sighed. “The last I saw or knew of it, she had hidden it within a series of chests protected by blood magic.” His eyes darted briefly to Regina. “I suspect, like any wise practitioner, she has kept it close ever since.”

     “So it’s likely on Hook’s ship,” the brunette reasoned, expression void of emotion but her her gaze flickering to Emma--whose features soured at the mention of the Pirate--spoke volumes of the conflict brewing under the surface.

     “Will she know you’re looking,” asked the blond, not clear exactly on the difference between magic as she’s seen it so far and blood magic.

     But she knew people like Cora.

     People like Regina.

     She knew the powder keg this kind of information was to their relationship--as well as to who the brunette was to herself. She had seen the devastation left in the wake of revelations where a child finds out their parent doesn’t see them as anything special with emotional meaning.

     Just another person.

     Another pawn to be used and toyed with.

     Unconsciously, forest eyes sought out that of her parents, almost afraid to see the look on their faces, but needing--hoping--that what she found there wasn’t as dead as Cora’s eyes had been.

     To her mix relief and distress, she saw nothing but heartache and love bouncing between herself and Henry’s other mother.

     That tendril of guilt from earlier, when David had found her at the convent, tightened.

     Regina ,tilting her head slightly in thought, brought her attention back to her as she replied with a sigh, “Likely, yes. But so long as the binding spell on the cuffs hold out for a few more hours, we’ll have found it before she can stop us.”

     “Do you think it will be that easy,” enquired Snow, her tone clearly insinuating how much she did not trust the simplicity of the information Rumplestiltskin had provided.

     But the former Mayor just shrugged. “Does it matter?” Brown orbs swirling with murky depths of honey drifted across the anxious faces around them--settling for a moment on the wand next to Rumple’s bag. “One way or another, my mother has to be contained.” Her gaze moved back to Emma. “She can’t be trusted. No matter what she says.”

     Nodding, the blonde sighed.

     She really didn’t want to see Killian Jones so soon.

     Especially after witnessing Regina’s own hand inside his chest, gripping his heart in a painfully familiar way.

     There was just something about the Pirate that got under her skin.

     “You gonna summon him,” she gestured to the brunette, “like before, or are we going to have to go out and find his ship?”

     Glancing at her former mentor, still seated, though looking better as each hour passed, Regina decided, “I think it best we pay him another visit,” a silent understanding passing between the group.

     As the man declared earlier, Hook wants Rumple dead.

     And though the Dark One was certainly capable of taking care of himself.

     There was the matter of his instability.

     Compounded with the Pirate’s own determination.

 

*****

 

     With one last snip of the pruning shears, her work for the day was done.

     Pulling her cloak back on, Reul Ghorm covered the soil filled pottery planters in front of her with trash bags--moving them closer towards the window so daylight could warm them.

     Satisfied with the progress she had made, she exited the small building.

     Only to be startled by an unexpected presence.

    “You’ve been up to some awfully naughty things, Mother,” came the voice of a man dressed in leather she did not recognize.

     Until he removed his hood.

     “Pinocchio,” she gasped. Surprised, and disheartened, by his wooden appearance. “Oh Pinocchio,” she murmured, shaking her head. “What have you done to yourself?”

     The Golem shrugged, ocean colored eyes looking everywhere but at her.

     Unwilling to tell the truth.

     And knowing better than to lie.

     “Can you undo it,” he asked, gaze darting briefly to the stone structure behind her. “Now that magic is here.” 

     Reul eyed the man child thoughtfully, reaching out with her senses, testing the level of said essence emanating within him.

     Could she?

     .................

     Yes.

     A wish could always be undone.

     But should she?

     .........................

     “There are grave consequences for undoing repercussions,” she informed him, tone hesitant--wanting to be clear the price involved in such a deed. “You brought this upon yourself by indulging in vices of this world you shouldn’t have.”

     “I know,” he replied, hardly repentant--however--of his actions. “But I can’t stay like this. Please,” he begged, taking a step towards her, “you don’t know what it was like growing up  _ here _ . What I’ve  _ seen _ ...what I’ve had to do just to  _ survive _ .”

_      ‘What you left me unprepared for’ _ , he was implying.

     Just like another little boy.

     From oh so long ago.

     The expression on her face fell grim, distress bubbling up inside her.

     This was the kind of situation she hated the most when dealing with humans. They were never satisfied. Never happy with the gifts given to them. Never regretful of their exploitive natures.

     Not until you take back what had been requested.

     Not until they realize how insignificant they are without her kind.

     “If I do this,” she warned him, “there will be no undoing it, Pinocchio.” She made sure to hold his gaze so he could see the truth of her statement. “There will be no more second chances.” She paused a beat, letting silence fill the small distance between them. “Do you understand?”

     The golem flexed his fingers in agitation.

     Clearly unhappy with the response.

     But eventually he sighed, bowed his head--shoulders hunching--and nodded slowly.

     “Whatever it takes,” he resigned.

     Releasing her own steadying sigh, Reul said, “Alright,” her eyes drifting past him, checking the surrounding area for any observers, “then follow me,” she instructed.

     Opening the door to the small workshop she had just exited, Reul ushered Pinocchio inside, and locked the heavy wooden oak behind them with the _ ‘click’ _ of a key turning in place.

 

*****

 

     Hook tossed the items he was digging through about, uncaring where they landed in the small room aboard his ship.

     Once he had kicked Cora off, he had quickly made his way to her belongings and had begun searching.

     Just as the Queen had asked. 

     He was wise enough to keep his distance from anything that carried an air of magic, not wanting to have another confrontation with either witch--instead focusing on drawer after drawer from her large chests, muttering to himself after awhile about a woman’s incapability to travel light.

     Two bottles of poison  _ (wisely confiscated) _ \--and far more clothing than he had ever wanted to handle, Killian paused amidst his quest, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rising, the air around him beginning to thicken.

     Backing out of the room slowly, eyes glancing warily, he climbed his way towards the deck of his vessel, disturbed.

     Until he heard a familiar voice calling out from the docks below.

     Brow raised, he learned over the railing of his beauty to confirm his suspicions.

 

     “O’ Captain, my Captain,” Regina sang--amused with herself--staring straight at the only empty space in Storybrooke’s harbor.

     Emma, however, rolled her eyes.

     Not humored in the slightest by the brunette.

     David and Snow, who came along  _ without _ permission  _ (though one can concede that the more hands searching the better) _ , frowned at the former Queen. Unsure, and curious, about the nature of her relationship with the vile Pirate.

     Though unseen, the White family easily startled when said man’s disembodied voice answered back, “What bring ye, o’ Queen of dark shores?”

     Grinning at their old familiar game, Regina replied coyly, “A bit of fun, and a bottle of something,” mist billowed in her right hand, a batch of her cider appearing at will, “to keep us warm for the night.”

     Silence followed for a beat.

     Then two.

     ...............

_      Perhaps he wasn’t willing to play after all? _

     ..................................................................

     Before the sound of a wooden plank landing upon the dock just a few feet ahead unexpectedly echoed to their ears.

     Heavy boot steps made their way down.

     And then, as if parting a reflective curtain, Captain Killian Jones stepped into sight from nowhere.

 

     “Some fun indeed,” he murmured, eyeing the group.

     He tilted his head Emma’s way. "Swan," giving her a mischievous smirk.

     He winked at Snow White. "Princess," which made the man beside her stiffen protectively as the princes rolled her eyes.

     The he asked Regina the only other thing currently on his mind.

     “Cora?”

     “Detained,” the Queen confirmed, handing her conjured gift off to him. “Though not for long. We suspect my mother’s heart is stored within her belongings. I’d like to go through them.”

     His gaze darted back to the faces behind her.

     He didn’t like the idea of them all nosing around the Jolly Roger.

     Regina and the Swan, he could agree upon. But her mother and the fellow....

     “I did my part,” he informed. “Gave your boy my summoning stone, and harassed Cora to reveal her intentions, just like we agreed. I even been lookin’ through her stuff myself.”

     “And,” his favorite green-eyed blond asked. 

     “She just wants her family,” he shrugged. “Afraid nothin’ more than that, lass.” 

     The map the witch had worked on earlier, and all the digging he had done...well...

     That was for him to keep to himself.

     “She’s not getting that as she is right now,” stated the White Queen, drawing a curious expression across his face.

     “What’s it to you,” he enquired, blue eyes shifting from her to Regina then Emma, “Mortal enemies and all that you are.”

     There was a pause for thought.

     Before....

     “Henry’s my son too,” Emma Swan revealed, beating the brunette before him who had opened her mouth to speak.

     Blue eyes widened comically, darting to unhappy brown, then to forest, and back again.

     Oh.

_      Oh! _

_      The lad she had been missing back home was... _

     “Ah,” he cleared his throat, fingers suddenly at the collar of his all to warm coat, adjusting it. “Right then.” Stepping aside, he gestured toward the plank none of them could see. “Just follow my lead. Cora cloaked the Jolly Roger upon our arrival.” He caught Regina’s gaze for a second out of his peripheral. “I’d like it t’ remain that way if it’s all the same to you, love?”

     With a raised brow, and chin, as his only response, he turned and started back aboard his ship, the Evil Queen falling into step right behind him--her eyes seeming to sear into his back.

     Had Swan told her about their little chat up the beanstalk?

     About the giant?

     About his...

     ..................

_      Bloody hell. _

 

*****

 

     “Belle, this isn’t really necessary,” he said, for the second time since the others had departed.

     “So humor me then,” she countered, tightening her hold on Rumple’s arm as they walked from the library back to his pawn shop.

     The man sighed, weak--just as ever--to her requests.

     She couldn’t help the soft smile that graced her lips for a few seconds.

     Before the reality of their situation drifted back in.

     She was on edge.

     They both were.

     Walking across the street out in the open like this.

     Granted, they knew the others were currently keeping Captain Hook occupied.

     But the man could only be distracted for so long.

     What then?

     “I’m not an invalid,” Rumple grumbled, reaching the sidewalk, his bag swaying in his other hand.

     Belle chuckled. “I would never suggest such a thing,” she assured him, eyes darting to all the strangers passing by she had yet to properly meet.

     It was quickly becoming obvious how isolated she was in this new land. How--outside of Ruby, Granny, and the White family--she only knew the  _ (tentatively former?) _ Evil Queen, her father, and her love beside her. 

     Oh.

     And Killian Jones, of course.

     An unpleasant encounter worth forgetting.

     ..................................................................

     Then again, ever since she offered to join Rumplestiltskin in exchange for the safety of her kingdom, isolation had been her one constant companion.

     So really...her life was rather typical at this point.

     “Do you think they’ll find it,” she asked, ever inquisitive. “Cora’s heart? Do you think, even if they succeed, that she’ll just...” she gestured towards her chest, “put it back like she hasn’t been absent of it for forty odd years or so?”

     The Dark One sighed, his face a mask of discontent. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Perhaps, but Cora is not a woman to be trifled with. She learned from the best, after all.” He glanced her way, offering an impish grin.

     “As did Regina,” she reminded him, a bit fascinated--if dare to admit--by his association with the Mills family.

     Had he pursued the young princess because of his past relationship with Cora?

     Manipulated her  _ (because Belle knew the tale) _ out of some need for revenge?

     Or was it something else altogether that drew him back time and time again?

     She was sure most would perceive her interest as jealousy.

     And to a degree, they would be right.

     But Belle really just wanted to know their history.

     Rumple’s history.

     That he was often so resistant to share.

     “Yes well,” he muttered, a sneer almost tugging across his lips, “she wasn’t exactly the most  _ apt _ pupil.”

     “Really,” she replied, not convinced of his words.

     If there was one thing she had learned about the Evil Queen while under imprisonment--it was that the woman was wickedly cunning, smart, and driven.

     “You two must have had quite the falling out,” she mused, spotting the pawn shop just a few doors down.

     “Indeed,” he gritted, letting her know the topic was off limits.

     Sighing, she squeezed his arm, and continued on their way, wanting to get him set up where _ he  _ felt the most safe and sound.

 

*****

 

     Cora growled, baring her teeth at the magically endowed metal biting her wrists.

     Her clever daughter and the Swan Princess had apparently considered her weakness to light magic--the invasive elemental power stinging like bees each time she tried to summon her own magia.

_      That wretched girl! _

_      What could she have possibly offered Regina to win her over so? _

_      Was this town...these...people and her grandson what she truly desired after all this time? _

     Twenty eight years apart surely could not have undone all she had instilled within her daughter.

     Could it?

_      Sigh. _

     ...............

     A tingling sensation unexpectedly spiked up her spine.

     She stiffened.

     Eyes narrowing.

     Someone was going through her stuff still aboard that awful Pirate’s ship.

     “What could they possibly be looking for,” she pondered.

     Was it that rum soaked Captain?

     She still had the map.

     Anything of value she had stored away would be useless to him.

     Unless the disgusting pig was pilfering her...

_      I’ll bleed him dry if he dares to touch my clothing. _

     Another tug on her spine.

     Then a third.

     Followed by...

     The horrifying reality of...

     Someone breaking through one of her charms.

     “No,” she gasped.

     Quickly standing from the cot.

     Rushing to the bars of her cell.

     “Regina,” she shouted, aware--however--that her insolent daughter could not hear her.

     “REGINA!”

     She banged wildly on the metal bars, the cacophony deafening.

     Much like the terrified beating sound echoing in her chest.

     “REGINA,” she screamed once more.

     ............................................................

     But no one who cared was listening.

     ............................................................

     Not even the man hiding in the basement, picking his way through file cabinet after file cabinet, removing map after map, and collecting census book after census book on Storybrooke.

     He was use to the woman above screaming.

     She was a shrill creature he long abhorred.

     How his Queen ever tolerated such a being...he did not know.

     But that would all change.

     In due time.

     Yes.

     He would give her what she seeks.

     And then....

     Then.

     He would finally be rewarded with that which he desires most.

     A heart for a heart.

     It was rather poetic....

     Don’t you think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw a curve ball at myself!
> 
> I started thinking. Then I started wandering.
> 
> 1\. Did Hook know Regina and Emma's son was one and the same?
> 
> 2\. What the fuck has blue been doing all day? And Pinocchio?
> 
> 3\. What was the factor that drove Regina to use Belle against Rumpelstiltskin in the first place? And how could she manipulate his emotions so easily when the dude can see the future?
> 
> 4\. And who have I left out of season 2 that I need to address before going too far forward?
> 
> So...unknown fairy action going down....uncomfortable Killian Jones....very curious Belle....and a creepo in the basement while Cora screams her head off.
> 
> Fun enough for ya?


	47. ...And A Mother's Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mid-week update!
> 
> Wooh!
> 
> :D

**Storybrooke**

 

     “Anything,” asks Emma as they dig through drawer after drawer, and chest after chest, of Cora’s stuff.

     This was the second time, since coming to Storybrooke, that the odds of her finding a human heart in a box were unnaturally higher than average.

     I mean, yeah, small towns are known to be creepy with dark, dark, secrets and lots of urban legends. It’s what gives them that perfect Hitchcock appeal. But the _ reality _ of it, the visible twisted truths, are usually not so...ghastly.

     “No,” replies Regina distractedly--delicately unlocking each ornate box she finds charmed by blood magic.

     The number of hidden objects she has uncovered--from spells to potions--and even a few personal notes she is hesitant to read, leaves her disturbed and heart heavy. One letter in particular, from Rumple no less, goes on and on about her and how he finally found the pupil he had been denied. 

     Emotionally, she is divided over the revelation.

     A part of her--the tiny one always seeking approval--revels in knowing the Dark One had once been secretly pleased and thrilled by her magical abilities.

     But the other side of her, the woman who has had twenty plus years to break herself free from the warped tutelage of both her mother and Rumple, finds her stomach souring at the clear depravity that has been apart of her life for far too long.

     She can’t stop thinking about her childhood compared to Henry’s.

     Was she a perfect mother?

_      No. _

     But was she like  _ hers _ ?

     .....She hopes not.

     With every fiber of her being, she prays that the memories she has since she held her son in her arms at three weeks old, are not self induced illusions.

     That she has truly loved Henry in the best way she knows how.

     .............................

     “Is there a chance it’s back in the Enchanted Forest,” asks David, unwilling to look through another set of dresses that make his skin crawl each time he touches the delicate material.

     He isn’t use to such obvious wealth--no matter the Consort he once was.

    He’s a simple man.

     A shepherd to a widowed mother who made most of their clothes.

     A husband working at an animal shelter, with a wife who’s a school teacher.

     .....And he likes that.

     He likes  _ this _ David and Snow.

     Because everything surrounding them on a slightly rocking ship, stinks of pain, loss, and magic. All things that have stained his life. That have ruined his family. His hopes. His dreams.

     .....He wants no part of it....

     “Doubtful,” snorts Snow, sighing as she drops another ornate piece of jewelry back into a box, letting the lid slam shut with a click. She shakes her head, eyes darting apprehensively to her former step-mother. “If one thing is certain, Cora keeps her most precious treasures close to her chest.”

     “If that were the case,” retorts the other brunette, tone clipped, eyes averted, “she would have never removed her heart in the first place.”

     “Unless she’s keeping it cleverly hidden in plain sight,” comments Hook, drawing their attention as he leans against the doorway, hard cider in hand.

     Having not lifted another finger to assist since his  _ ‘debt has been payed’ _ in his opinion.

     Blue eyes flickering to Emma, he gestures with the open bottle. “Like that giant we dealt with, Swan.”

     “Giant?” Regina frowns, glancing at the younger woman whose gaze narrows on Killina in thought. “What giant?”

     “The one we faced in order to get the compass that guided us home,” answers the blond distractedly, not noticing the way the other woman’s brows rapidly climb up her forehead in surprise.

     “Aye,” Hook confirms, a coy smile on his lips, “took us a bit to realize the beast was keeping it on ‘imself.”

     “You took down a giant,” David questions, impressed, and proud--pulling Emma out of her thoughts.

     Blushing at the unexpected praise, she nods, forest orbs darting to Regina then back to Killian. “He wasn’t that menacing...but he was huge. We had to use knockout dust to drop him, and found the compass we were looking for around his neck.”

     “Because the safest place most people think to keep something--” Hook starts, echoing Emma’s words from that day.

     “--Is on themselves,” the younger woman finishes with a sigh.

     ........................

     Raising a finger, her face a myriad of emotions as her mind begins to race with the probability, Regina replies, “One, I want to know where that compass is now.” Milky brown shifts between blue and shaded greens. “Two...” then glances at David and Snow, “if mother is hiding her...heart, in plain sight...then it would obviously be concealed by magic.”

     “Which is being suppressed right now by the enchanted cuffs,” Emma chimes in, following the brunette’s line of thinking.  

     The said woman’s breath visibly hitches.

     She nods.

     Conflict swelling within her.

     ....................

     It was one thing to have Emma arrest and subdue her mother.

     .....It is another to search her person....by magical means.

     ............

     All casters. All users of magic, have their secrets they keep upon themselves.

     To....violate them, for any reason....

     Is abhorrently heinous.

     ............

_      ......What should we do? _

 

*****

 

    Cora paces her cell.

     Temper brewing.

     Frustration at her situation, and disheartenment at her daughter’s betrayal, waring across her features.

     She knows better.

     Since the day her child could walk, she has forbade her from ever getting into her magically sealed items. It isn’t just a matter of keeping certain--valuable--things to herself. It is also a consideration of respect and trust.

     Her life is one of constant cloak and dagger.

     Since her marriage into the Southern Land Kingdom, innumerable enemies have been defeated without Regina or her late husband ever knowing.

     And secrets kept close to breast--for good reason.

_      This is the Swan Princesses doing, I just know it. _

_      How can Regina settle for someone like her? _

_      Why has she not finally rid herself of Snow when she certainly has the chances? _

_      What has this world done to her? _

     Hearing the unexpected  _ ‘click’ _ of a door, and the shuffling of feet, Cora suddenly turns to the bars of her cell and calls out,  “Who goes there?” No response. “Show yourself,” she demands, spotting a shadow lurking just around the corner of the room she is in.

     .....But the figure only pauses for a second.

     Before turning and walking out of range.

     Leaving her to her internal distress once more.

     .......

    Huffing, skin prickling at the white magic still subduing her own, she slams her hands against the bars. Only satisfied a mere fraction by the way they rattle at the violence upon them. 

     “I will remove you, Emma Swan,” she growls, noting the rays of the sun streaming into the room starting to fade from sight. “You and your entire White clan, if it’s the last thing I do.” Her eyes harden, her bones vibrating with consuming rage. “I WILL have my grandson and my daughter. One way...or another.”

 

*****

 

     “What was your plan,” asks Belle, watching Rumple remove the ruin covered box and black wand from his carrying bag. She nods to the items directly. “What did you intend with them?”

     Hesitating, uncertain how much he wants to share, the Imp eyes his love where she sits perched on a stool inside the work area of his shop.

     Her gaze is wary, but not distrusting.

     ...........

     They have a long way to go before they will ever see eye to eye.

     If ever.

     ....But if he doesn’t start trying now....

     “To use them on Cora,” he answers, leaning against the table the magical objects are resting on. “I went to see Miss Blanchard, hoping she could locate her daughter for me, as I...need magic that cannot be resisted.”

     The auburn haired woman nods.

     “And Baelfire’s cloth?”

     Rumple sighs.

     Weary.

     Not just physically, but emotionally as well.

     “I was going to use Miss Swan to finish enchanting it so I could pass over the town line.” He ducks his head, unwilling to see the disappointment he knows will be on Belle’s face.

     “Why,” she asks.

     Tone curious, instead of judgemental or saddened.

     Drawing in a deep breath, he explains. “Because she is the Savior. The one destined to break this curse. Whether she has realized it or not, she is  _ living _ magic--the single essence keeping our old world, and this one, separate.”

     Blue eyes furrow as his young amore tilts her head to the side. “I-I don’t understand. Emma already broke the curse.”

     “Partially, yes,” he agrees. “But not completely. Otherwise...” he gestures around them, “you would all not be here.”

     “All of us,” Belle murmurs, considering his words. “Except you.”

     Rumple nods.

     “I was never cursed, not really,” he reveals, eyes darting to the sun setting outside the back of his shop windows. “Regina and I had made a deal. She casts the curse, and I get everything I desire.”

     “Not something, I suspect, you shared fully with her,” Belle says.

     Knowing him so well.

     He shrugs. “What one fails to ask in detail is not my concern.”

     Because he knew better at that point to share anything about Bae and this land with the Evil Queen.

     “Whatever happened between you two,” his beauty queries with a slow shake of her head. “For individuals so much alike, I admit it’s quite unclear how you became so...unpleasant associates.”

     Rumple tenses, going silent, and returning to his task of dealing with the wand and ruin box he had gathered.

     She was fishing again.

     Just as she had on their short walk over here.

     ................

     The Mill’s women are.....matters in which he has yet to resolve within himself.

     And he resents them for that.

      For they way Cora deceived him.

     For the way Regina manipulated him 

     ................

     Had he paid more attention to the past, rather than always looking into the future, perhaps he would have seen the metaphorical knife they were both carrying to one day drive into his back.

     .....Maybe he would have been happy.

     Maybe he would have found his Bae sooner.

     .....Without having to be here at all.

     ................

     He clears his throat.

     Chances a glance at her.

     “Can you bring me the books I have on my register shelf, please,” he asks softly, hoping she will drop the matter once more.

     They stare at one another for a beat.

     ....Then two....

     Before she nods with a sigh, and leaves him in his workspace alone to gather the requested tomes.

     Running a hand over his face, he lets his shoulders sag, the weight of the last few days pushing him down.

     It would be only a matter of time before something gives.

     Be it Cora.

     Miss Swan and Regina.

     ...Or himself.

     They were trapped in a corked bottle coming to a head.

     ....And, he acknowledges--especially after what happened transpired today--not all of them are meant to come out of this....alive.

  

*****

 

     Henry rubs at his face.

     Tired of being at Granny’s.

     Missing his mom and Emma.

     .....It was suppose to be a normal day--just like his Gram had said.

     But then Cora had shown up.

     And....well...

     He sighs.

     .........

     “What’s wrong, little man,” asks Ruby, finishing putting away another set of dishes fresh from the wash, and coming to lean against the counter in front of him. “Something got ya down?”

     He shrugs, right cheek resting on his hand, left fingers fiddling with the controls of his hand held game, but not actually playing anything. “I’m just ready to go home.”

     Ruby nods like she understands.

     But he doesn’t think she does.

_      How can she? _

     He doesn’t know her story real well but.....Red Riding Hood only ever had to deal with the Big Bad Wolf, and Ruby IS the wolf so....

     “Things haven’t been easy since the curse broke, huh,” she muses, folding her arms, bending down enough to settle her chin on them.

     “Things have sucked since I found the book,” he mutters bitterly.

     Thinking about the way everything has gone since the moment he realized it was real.

     That his mom was an Evil Queen who had cursed a bunch of fairy tale characters to this world. That his teacher was really his grandmother. That his birth mom was out there somewhere... _ not  _ looking for him.

     That people were hurting.

     Besides him.

     And his mom.

     .....Then he ran away, found Emma, and brought her home to bring everyone’s happy endings back.

     ..............

     But no one was happy.

     Not really.

     Especially not him.

     “I was scared, y’know,” Ruby reveals softly, fingers moving to caress his empty milkshake glass, “when I realized what happened and where we were.” She pulls in a deep breath. “And then I was angry.”

     “At mom,” he whispers, heart constricting with strife.

     But knowing it was true.

     He had been angry as well.

     When everything was revealed to be a lie.

     .....But she’s his mom....so....

     ..............

     Ruby nods. Then shrugs. “But I got over it pretty quickly.”

     Hazel eyes rise from his idling to meet open brown. “Why?”

     “Because here,” Ruby points a fingertip into the service counter, “I’m not being hunted for being a Child of the Moon.” She shakes her head. “I’m not on the run, living in caves or shacks. I’m not being forced to defend myself.” She reaches out, hand finding his forearm, squeezing. “Living in the Enchanted Forest, compared to here, isn’t as awesome as fairy-tales in this land makes it out to be, kid.” She smiles. “So I got over it. Even if your mom  _ thinks _ this was suppose to be some kind of torture...it isn’t, not really. Not when you take the time to look at all we’ve gained.”

     He stares at her, thinking about what she’s said.

     Letting her warm touch comfort him.

     “Thanks, Ruby,” he smiles bashfully, cheeks heating up under her gaze.

     “Anytime, Henry.” Her grin widens, becoming all teeth as she reaches out to tap him on the nose.

 

*****

 

     “What are we going to do,” Emma asks as she finds herself standing outside her station, Regina to her left, her parents standing behind them.

     “I want a moment alone with her,” the brunette requests, hands moving anxiously together, eyes crinkled in contemplation.

     She opens her mouth to protest.

     Yet once more.

     ......But Regina raises her hand, and unlike before, asks softly, “Please?”

     Emma’s jaw snaps shut.

     Her brow furrows.

     ..............

     The older woman rarely requests anything of her so nicely.

     So personally.

     Her eyes flicker back to her parents, noting their obvious dislike of the notion.

     .....But was it really up to them?

     Cora is  _ Regina’s _ mother.

     Technically, if it wasn’t for Henry and the town’s safety in general, they would have no say in how she handles the other woman.

     ......So....

     “Ok,” she replies softly, meeting the brunettes searching gaze with a nod.

     They were suppose to be starting over.

     Building...something like...trust, between them.

     ......

     And that requires one of them offering the first step forward.

     .......

     Regina sighs, nodding her relief at Emma’s support.

     David had trusted her while they were gone.

     And their...association was for more strained than any conflicts her and Henry’s birth mother have shared personally over the last year.

     “Just,” the blond can’t help speaking up though, feelings of distrust and concern bubbling in her eyes, “be careful with her.”

      Surprised  _ (though she shouldn’t be) _ by the waves of anxiety and protectiveness coming off of Emma, Regina bites her lip, unsure how to respond.

     There’s that phantom touch again, on her left bicep, heating up.

     The arm around her waist, dragging her through the fire trap set by Gold.

     The firm hand pulling her up after the Wraith.

     ............

     “I will,” she rasps.

     Jarringly.

    Meaning every word.

  
  


     “I don’t like this,” Snow states, watching as Regina walks into the station.

     Alone.

     She turns her frustrated gaze on her daughter, unable to comprehend why she would agree to this. “We don’t know if Cora has her magic back or not, and we don’t know what kind of game she’s playing.”

     “You’re right, we don’t,” Emma replies, meeting her mother’s edgy tone with one of her own. “But we need to trust that Regina can handle this. She’s our only hope in stopping Cora before someone gets hurt.”

     Snow shakes her head. “You’re putting too much faith in that woman.”

     “I know her,” Emma counters, gaze hardening. “I trust her.”

     David sighs, resting a supportive hand on his wife’s shoulder...but reminding her gently, “She wants to change. She just...needs everyone to see that.”

     Snow scoffs, rolling her eyes.

      “Why are you being like this,” asks Emma, eyes narrowing.

      Mary Margarette had never been so...so...critical of someone before.

      “Because this is Cora,” the brunette practically shouts, gesturing wildly towards the station door. “She’s a heartless woman who tore  _ my _ life apart without remorse! She tortured her daughter, manipulated and abused her in ways  _ we  _ can never understand!” She draws in a shaky breath, stepping closer to her only child. “I told you before, Emma, there is a fine line between the two of them. You  _ cannot _ trust Regina, and you cannot trust what you  _ think  _ you know Cora’s capable of!”

     “And I told _ you _ they are nothing alike,” Emma snaps back. “ _ You _ may not know, or understand, but  _ I  _ do.” Her breath shakes, hands tensing at her hips. “I’ve seen it, and I’ve been through it!” The words are harshly choked out. “And I’m still here,” she points to the ground beneath them, fingers trembling. “I’m still me.”

     ...........

     Snow stares at her.

     Dumbstruck.

     ...........

     Emma takes a step back, turning sideways to bring her emotions under control, running her fingers irritatedly through her hair.

     ...........

     When she has managed to collect herself, she sighs and shifts back towards her parents, lowering her voice as she says, “So give Regina a chance....If not for her, then for me.” She holds their gazes, their eyes shades of her own. “And for Henry.”

     .....Heart thumping, eyes misting as her emotions bounce from heartache, to distrust, to concern and back again, Snow bites her lip--unsure if she can give Emma what she’s asking for.

      ......Because this is Regina....

     This is Cora.

     This is her worst fear coming into fruition.

     ......So she remains silent.

     Unable to make a promise she’s too conflicted about to keep.

  
  


     “Darling,” Cora greets.

     But her body is rigid.

     Distant.

     Cold.

     Raising her chin, Regina comes to a stop just a few feet from the cell her mother stands in, hands linked before her, the cuffs still on.

     “We need to talk, mother,” she says, clasping her own hands, slipping her all too familiar Queenly mask into place.

     “Indeed we do,” the older woman agrees, taking a step forward.

     Regina remains where she is, however.

     Physically unwilling to meet Cora half way.

    “You’ve been going through my things,” the older woman grits out, displeasure emanating off of her--reminding Regina far too much of her youth. “Something I strictly forbade you to do.”

     “Yes, I have been,” she readily admits, not at all repentant. 

     “Why,” her mother demands, taking another step closer to the cell bars, eyes blazing with fury. “What are you looking for?”

     But Regina ignores her.

     Instead, she asks the one question that has been on her mind since...well, far longer than she wants to consider.

     “Do you love me?”

     ........

     Stunned.

     Confused.

     Cora tilts her head, frowning at her. “What kind of question is that. Of course I do.” She gestures to their surroundings and the cuffs on her wrists. “Would I be here like this if I did not?”

     ................

     She eyes the woman.

     Gauging her actions and her words.

     “You’re where you are right now because you glamoured yourself to look like me and kidnapped my son,” she reminders her, shoulders tensing.

     Cora sighs, a look of contempt settling across her face.

     “And I apologized,” she rebuts. “Though it obviously doesn’t mean anything to you.”

     “You’re right, mother, it doesn’t,” she says, finally taking a few steps forward so they can be face to face for her next words. “Because it’s hard to trust someone who doesn’t have their  _ heart. _ ”

     ..........

     Like being struck with a whip, Cora’s spine straightens.

     ...........

     “Who told you that,” she growls, a sneer tugging at her lips.

     ....Regina remains quiet...taking in the wild creature standing inside the cage.

     “WHO TOLD YOU,” the older woman shouts, body bending with the wrath of her words.

     ..........

     Yet she remains quiet.

     Waiting her mother out.

     .....Until the woman is visibly trembling with emotion....

     Before asking softly, “Is it true?”

     ..........

     She tries not to let her nerves show.

     Hoping the past twenty odd years have improved her ability to hide her own feelings.

     But there’s no missing the way she’s holding her breath in anticipation--gut clenched tightly in fear at the admittance...or denial, weighing on Cora’s lips.

     Her mother remains mute for a beat.

     ....and four more...

     Before replying, just as quietly as she had asked, “Yes.”

     .............

     Air rushes out of her, heartache and resentment flowing right with it.

     Drawing a steadying breath in, Regina places her hands on the bars of her mother’s cell, and makes her own demand. “Where is it, then? Where have you stored it?”

     “What does it matter,” Cora counters, eyes narrowing. 

     “If you want anything to do with me or my son, it matters greatly,” she reveals, words edged with warning. “I will  _ not _ have you in this town, nor this  _ land _ , without it.” She captures her mother’s gaze, eyes hard with conviction. “Do you understand?”

    Cora raises her chin so high she has to stare down her nose at her in order to remain locked in with her.

     Her jaw is clenched so hard the veins in her neck are straining at the tension.

     ....But Regina refuses to back down.

     She needs this to be resolved.

     One way or another.

.........

     “It’s where it belongs,” Cora finally gives, tone short like any other time they have ever spoken to one another. “Where any mother would keep it.”

     “And where is that,” Regina asks, trying to resist the way her brows want to furrow in frustration, unable to grasp what her mother means.

     Cora shrugs. “With you, darling, of course. Where else?” A slow, sickly smile, captures her lips as her eyes twinkle darkly. “A mother’s heart is always with her child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....fucking creepy, Cora. Fucking. Creepy.
> 
> I love it :D.
> 
> I'm glad somebody finally brought that compass back up. I mean, it's probably just sitting around somewhere at the loft...keeping secrets....tempting thieves.
> 
> Awww, poor Henry. But I love Ruby. I do. I think she's one hell of a compassionate person and they are just sweet together. He needed that.
> 
> Nice to see Belle and Rumple talking. They haven't made it easy on one another....but this is a good step forward.
> 
> Emma and Regina....there are tingles there. For them. For me. For everyone watching (or reading).
> 
> But Snow....sigh....I would like to be indignant about her fears...but they are valid. She isn't being selfish as she is being vocally worried. Because past experiences have taught her, even when Regina tries to pull herself out of the darkness that has consumed her...it always tries to pull her back in.


	48. It's Gonna Be A Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another midweek post! Yay!
> 
> :)

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

_      What? _

     Regina blinks.

     Face void of any emotion.

     Staring at her manic looking mother, shackled and confined behind the bars between them.

     ..........

     Then she laughs.

    High and tight.

     Eyes crinkling with absurdity.

     “Do you really expect me to believe that,” she asks, incredulous. 

_      Who does mother think she is? A dullard? _

     But Cora just shrugs.

_      Shrugs! _

     And replies, “Believe whatever you like, darling.” Chin going up, spine straightening--all typical tells of her pretentiousness, she adds, “You asked, I told you. Do with the information as you like.”

     ...............

_      This is ridiculous! _

     “I would know,” Regina swears with conviction.

     Because yes, she’s arrogant enough to be confident in her own magical skill set.

     .....Her mother shakes her head, however.

     And sighs.

     “As insatiable as your appetite for knowledge and power is, you are still disappointingly oblivious to the workings around you.”

     ................

     Her magic reacts before she does.

     Lashing out.

     Slamming her mother into a wall of the cell with unrestrained force.

     She watches in building fury as Cora cries out, face contorted in shock--then rage--while struggling against the additional constraint sliding her up the length of the cement blocks.

     .....It’s eerily familiar of that horrid day she often has nightmares about.

     The one where she had to endure soul squeezing heartache, and gut wrenching nausea, all during the process of being fitted for her  _ wedding _ dress so she could complete the sale her mother had made of her to the King.

     .....The day Snow revealed her betrayal....

     The day Rumplestiltskin convinced her to push  _ mother  _ through that damn mirror.

     ..................

     As quickly as she reacted....she retracts.

     Letting Cora drop unceremoniously to the cell floor.

     Apathetic to the way she crumbles on hands and knees--chest heaving, eyes flaming with ferocity.

     “These manacles won’t last forever,” the older woman growls in warning, staggering to her feet. “And when they fail, there will be repercussions, dear  _ daughter _ ,” she seethes, “for what you have done!”

     Regina’s own honey brown orbs glimmer violently.

     “There is a line, mother,” she says lowly, voice as deep and as cold as it has ever been since--and after--the Evil Queen. “One surrounding my town.” She sweeps a criticizing gaze up and down Cora’s thin frame. “Threaten me again, and I’ll push you over it.” She pauses for a beat. “Leaving you isolated, old and frail, absent of magic with no ability,” she breathes softly, “to return here, or any other realm,  _ ever _ again.”

     .................

     The Mills’ women glare at each other.

     Anger.

     Shame.

     Distrust.

     .....And hurt, passing between them.

     .................

     Minutes tick by.

     Before Regina turns--never once looking back--and exits the Sheriff’s station just as quietly as she had entered.

 

*****

 

     Emma jumps.

     The door in front of her opening.

     She tenses instantly upon the silent, expressionless, Mayor standing before her.

     “What did she say,” she asks, chest beginning to burn with anxiety.

     .....And a sliver of doubt...

_      Damn you, MM. _

     .........

     Swirling whiskey orbs blink once.

     Then twice.

     Slow to process her question.

     Then replies--in a tone Emma is all too familiar with, “Nothing.”

     ...........

     Regina’s smokey gaze darts between her and her parents. Clearing her throat, collecting herself, she repeats, “She said nothing.” Shaking her head, eyes falling to the pavement. “Cora refuses to cooperate.” A sigh. “Which is par for the course with her.”

     ..........

     Emma’s special power is blaring like a siren.

     Screaming at her.

     Clawing at...whatever they had been progressing towards the last forty eight odd hours or so.

_      Lies. _

     Not all of it.

     But enough.

     ...........

     She opens her mouth to call her out.

     Temper flaring.

     But David cuts her off. “So then we make her.” Blue eyes flicker from MM to Regina. “We lock her away permanently, like we did Rumplestiltskin, until she caves.”

     Both brunettes disturbingly bark out a similar laugh, faces a bit crazed at his suggestion.

     “Do you not understand, you idiot” the former Evil Queen suddenly snaps, face contorting with furor. “My mother is as much a master of the long con as that insipid Imp! If not more so!”

     “She’ll tear us apart,” Snow appallingly agrees, shaking her head. “Like wings off a living fly. It would be a death sentence for us. Not her.”

     Emma shudders at the visual.

     Catching her Dad’s equally unsettled gaze.

     Feeling, just as he, creeped out by the pair.

     .....................

     “What should we do then,” she inquires, wetting dry lips, shoving agitated hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “If we can’t make her break. If we can’t jail her.”

     Silence falls as they look at one another.

     .....Emma more focused on the Mayor than her folks.

     Watching.

     Waiting for her next potential lie.

     ...................

     “I don’t know,” Regina finally admits.

     ..................

     And, damn it all, it’s a truth.

     .................

     She draws in a deep steadying breath, up through the nose, then out again.

_      Ok.... _

_      Ok. _

     “How long until the magic on the cuffs wear off?”

     Rapidly distancing brown glance her way.

     “Not long,” Regina rasps.

     ................

     Emma bites her lip.

     Troubled gaze moving back to her parents.

     .................

_      What now? _

  
  


     It’s too much.

     Her mother.

     Rumple.

     Hook.

     Snow and David.

     Emma....

_      Henry. _

     .............

     The blonde was right the other day.

     She does have a bag packed.

     Two, in fact.

     ..................

     She’s almost certain she can cross the town line with her son...

     If he would want to....

_      Not without Emma. _

     ..................

     She pulls in a shaky breath, wordlessly acknowledging the thought as they remain mute outside the station doors.

     ............................

     Could she do that?

     Could she...accept the young woman being apart of her and Henry’s life  _ outside  _ of this forsaken town?

     It was one thing when she had considered turning a new leaf.

     Starting fresh  _ here _ , for her son’s sake, with his birth mother and these clustered peasants.

     .....But with Cora’s presence....

     “We need a break.” She surprises the White trio, hands clasping together, trembling fingers squeezing each other tight.

_      From everything. _

     She glances at the Sheriff first. “To divide tactics and minimize any forthcoming events.”

     She knows Emma.

     She will understand the rationale in her words.

     Will rely on her just enough to keep this town... to keep Henry, safe.

     ................

     The blonde grimaces....but concedes with a nod.

_      One down. _

     ...............

     She shifts her gaze then to David, reminding herself of how well they have tentatively collaborated so far. “I suggest getting to the mine and retrieving as much fairy dust as you can gather. I don’t care if you have to work rotating shifts around the clock.” She clenches her jaw, disliking the fact she has to utter her next words. “Just so long as...Reul Ghorm has as much as she needs.”

     .....He hesitates.

     Blue eyes flickering from her, to his wife and daughter.

     She worries.

     Wondering if he’ll backtrack now that his family is home.

     Now that, reasonably, he doesn’t need her.

     .....But in mirror of his child, he also nods in agreement.

_      Two down. _

     ...............

     Last....

     And most greatly unwanted...

     She turns to Snow.

     Hazel eyes meeting her own steadfast.

     ..........

     She doesn’t want to do this.

     She doesn’t want to align with her in any way.

     She still despises her.

     With every inch of being.

     And undoubtedly the princess feels the same.

     ................

     But this is bigger than their issues.

     Than their past.

     “Gather your council, Snow White,” she requests the pixie haired woman darkly. “Assemble them, and convene with Blue.” She ignores the way her blood is simmering. The churning sensation in her gut that’s being stirred by pain.

     So much pain.

     “There is only one solution to keep Hook from killing Rumple.” One she knows maddingly so well. “Because, despise it or not,” she grits out, nerves sparking, “that ungodly bastard is likely our only hope.”

     ...............

     She waits.

     .....The once fair complected Queen narrowing her gaze.

     Studying her.

     Assessing her words much like her daughter does....

     ...............

     .......But she breaks.

     All the same.

     With a firm nod.

     “Alright.”

     .................

     It is worse than any deal she has ever made with the crocodile devil.

     She’s sick.

     Torn.

     Completely disgusted with herself.

_      .....Henry. _

     His name, like a venerated prayer, keeps looping through her mind.

_      Henry, Henry, Henry, Henry. _

_      ................. _

     Emma clears her throat, gaining her attention once again.

     “What about you?”

     That often distracting brow is pinched.

     Forest eyes lit with untrained magic.

     Regina can smell the conflicting emotions emanating from her.

     Worry.

     Uncertainty.

     .....Protectiveness.

     ................

     She raises her chin, returning them to who they once were just days ago.

     To Sheriff and Mayor.

     Superior and Officer.

     Miss Mills and Miss Swan.

     “I’m going to gather a few things at my crypt.”

     .....Emma’s jaw clenches, but she holds her tongue.

     “And then I will meet you at Granny’s.” She glances towards the setting sun. “I’m sure Henry is full of disgusting fried food by now...but I want to spend the rest of my evening with him.”

     .................

     She can see conflicted desires burning in shades of green.

     The need to follow her.

     To question her.

     To be by her side.

     To tentatively trust her.

     ......She doesn’t understand it.

     Or believe in whatever it could mean.

     ................

     They’ve been spending too much time together.

     Too much muddled...magia...between them.

     ...................

     A break will do them  _ all _ some good.

 

*****

 

     Hook watches as the sun creeps closer to the horizon.

     The magnificent rays of red and yellow illuminating this quaint little ocean side town like some of the most mystical ports he has ever visited. 

     He runs the cloth in his right hand over his hook two more times, buffing until it glimmers, before setting the rag aside next to the wheel of his Jolly Roger.

     Raising his left arm, he turns the curved appendage into the fading light, humming contently as it glows like a jewel.

     Blue eyes flickering to the barren state of his vessel, he takes a moment to consider how he has reached this point in his life.

     Alone.

     Empty of any kind of emotions beyond heartache...

     And Revenge.

     .....Time does  _ not _ heal all wounds as they claim.

     It just tears at them.

     Pulling apart the flesh.

     Rubbing in salt and spirits to the point you are left maddened by fever.

     ...............

     Reaching into his vest, he removes the delicate illustration of Milah he has kept nearby since her burial at sea--rubbing the faded lines gently with his weathered fingers.

     He closes his eyes.

     Taking in a deep breath.

     Letting his tattered mind go back.

     Back to rich dark locks and fierce orbs alight with passion.

     To skin peppered with a life of sails and sands.

     To warm curves and the silkiest voice that has ever caressed his ears.

     To a heart, so strong.

     So brave.

     That it took a monster to tear it from her.

     ...............

     A breeze, like a tender hand, brushes across his face, tickling at his wild hair.

     Sniffling. Opening his tormented eyes, he settles his tear stained stare on the last reflections of the sun against distant waters. 

_      Aye love, _ he swears in his soul, _ I’ll avenge you at last. _

_      .....Or die trying.... _

 

*****

 

     They are doing exactly what she  _ doesn’t _ want to do.

     Watching David kiss MM before leaving in his truck to collect Leroy and the others, Emma paces and nibbles at her lower lip in frustration.

     She agrees with Regina--to a degree--that they need a divide and conquer approach to Cora...but resorting to magic and old world methods are just....just... 

     “You alright?”

     She snaps her gaze up from her boots to meet her mo--Snow’s...MM’s worried eyes.

     “I don’t like this,” she blurts out, hands going to her hips. “I know what Regina said makes sense, but I can’t help feeling like we’re taking ten steps back somehow.” She crosses her arms, hazel eyes darting to the buildings surrounding them. “Like we’re in the Enchanted Forest all over again.” Her voice hardens as she returns her gaze to the woman before her. “I don’t trust  _ Cora _ .”

     Chest burning.

     Mind racing,  _ what if, what if, what if... _

     She couldn’t shake the way Regina had looked coming out the station doors.

     The lie.

     The admitted disparaging truth.

     .................

     Mary Margaret heaves a heavy sigh, nodding her head in agreement. “I know. I don’t either.”

     “But you’re going along with it.”

     A statement as much as a question.

     ...............

     Silence descends for a beat.

     Making Emma more tense than she already feels.

     “I think,” Mary Margaret finally starts, “all things considered at the moment,” she turns to meet her wary stare, “we play it by ear.” Her eyes flicker to the nearby jail. “You already know how I feel about Regina and her mother.”

     Emma nods, fingers unconsciously tightening into fists.

     “Gathering the council once more is a wise idea over all.”

     “I already warned her and David that I won’t let this town fall into some Game of Thrones live action role play,” she reminds Mary Margaret.

     To be clear of her stance on things.

     And she means it.

     She won’t let Storybrooke descend into medieval chaos.

     ..............

     Her pixie haired mother lifts her chin slightly, so eerily like Regina, eyes calculating--dissecting her words.

     “Come whatever may, Emma,” Snow replies, “nothing will change the fact of  _ who we are  _ and where we come from.” She raises a hand, forestalling her argument as she opens her mouth. “I don’t want to go back there,” She clarifies. “And, truthfully, I’m done with all of this drama as well.” Her chin tilts a little higher, eyes darkening. “But this is a matter of survival....for this town....and for  _ our  _ family.”

     Emma draws a sharp breath in through her nose.

     Jaw locking as she wants to say something....

     She’s just not sure what.

     ....Her emotions have been all over the place for days.

     She feels physically conflicted.

     Mentally divided.

     .....She thinks about the town line.

     About her and Henry....

     About Regina.

     ..............

     ........

     “Let’s get to Granny’s,” she rasps, pushing the tidal wave trying to consuming her back.

     Later.

     She’ll deal with it all later.

     Right now....she just needs to see her son.

 

*****

 

     He quietly shuts the door to the B&B.

     Stepping off the steps and into the shadows of the grounds of the small boarding place, before merging with the ones lining the outer walk.

     The diner next door is busy, Granny and Ruby too distracted to notice his exit. 

     He’s sure they’ve told someone about his arrival by now.

     .....But his presence has remained unnervingly undisturbed...

     So he’s out looking.

     Hoping.

     And dreading.

     To move things along.

     ................

     Releasing a sigh as he finds the walk bare of most people, Neal takes in the buildings around him, keeping a watchful eye for a certain blond  _ (just in case)  _ and his father.

     It’s taken him most of the afternoon to work through the illustrations and information August left behind.

     Had he known what Emma was walking in to...

     What she had to do....

     ................

     Well, it was too late to dredge up past regrets now.

     He’s here.

     That’s the first step to make everything that’s gone wrong...

     Right.

     ............

     Suddenly spotting a figure slinking along the walls of a distant structure into a blind alleyway.

     He pauses.

     Watching.

     Waiting to see if the lean man will come back out--like someone just dumping trash into the closest dumpster--or not.

     ....But as the seconds tick by....he can’t help but be curious.

     Glancing before crossing the street, Neal moves swiftly and quietly, remaining in consuming tones of washed out fall foliage and black to keep out of sight.

     Blue eyes bouncing to the nearest street light, ears straining, he listens to the sounds coming from the side street--an accented muttering. A rustling of papers. The banging of an old door.

     Head drifting upwards, he notices that he’s standing beside what looks to be a clock tower, complete with large ticking time face. Shifting to peer into the closest window, he catches sight of what he thinks are carts of books and tables.

     “A library,” he mutters with a frown.

     Odd place for one in his opinion...

     But even odder is the person trying to break into the back of it.

     Who are they?

     What could they possibly want in  _ there _ ?

     ....................

     Moving just a little to get a better look, he startles as a door just down the street slams shut.

     Head swinging around, he registers a petite brunette walking away from his father’s supposid shop--her pace brisk, head down, body tense.

_      Who the hell is that? _

     He watches her.

     Intrigued.

     .....Does his father have a shopkeep?

     August didn’t mention anyone.

     Even from a distant the air about her screams refinement...definitely not something a typical store clerk would possess.

_      Should I follow her? _

_      Would she know me? _

     His nose and eyes crinkle, debating what he should do....

     “Who the hell are you?”

     Head swiveling.

     Spooked.

     He comes face to face with the man from the alley.

     .....Crazed dark eyes sunken into a scruffy face examine him intently.

     “Who are you,” he counters right back, standing to his full height.

     Intimidating.

     .....Except the man doesn’t back down.

     Instead, his eyes seem to light up, as if he’s just had a revelation.

     Bright white teeth emerge while he smiles a bit insanely, taking an unexpected step forward into his space.

     “You’ll do perfectly,” he mutters.

_      What the hell? _

     Neal’s frown deepens, raising his arms to push the kook back.

     “Look buddy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but--”

     He gags suddenly.

     His throat tightening.

     His words dying on his lips.

     ......Eyes bulging, he glances down to the man’s slightly raised hand, then back to his flaring nostrils.

     “I am the Man in the Mirror,” he states, chin lifting haughtily. “And you, Dark One’s son, are  _ exactly _ what I need.”

     Alarm bells ringing in his head, Neal lashes out with shaking hands, trying to push the man and his magic off.

     .....But the hold refuses to break.

     Instead...he smells spiced incense and copper swirl around him...

     His world spins.

     .....And he collapses into a darkening vortex of muted grey.

 

*****

 

     She stares at the wall of boxes before her.

     Listening to the dull thumping of each heart contained in most of them.

     ..............

     For as long as she’s possessed--and often accessed--her mother’s collection, adding to it with some of her own...she’s never once considered one here may belong to Cora herself....

     Until now.

_      ‘Where is it, mother?’ _

_      ‘With you, darling, of course. Where else? A mother’s heart is always with her child.’ _

     Nausea swims through her body.

     Bile rising in her throat.

     Sweat breaking across her covered skin.

     .............

     She needs it to be here.

     In a box.

     In a tangible place she can unlock and retrieve it from.

     .....Because the alternative is...is....

     She shakes her head.

     Drawing in a ragged breath.

     Steadying herself.

     .....She’s the Evil Queen, after all.

     This is just another heart.

     .....And if pushed...she’ll crush it...like countless others.

     .................

     Raising her right hand, summoning her magic, she slowly waves it across the top row of drawers, searching for any sealed with blood magic or carrying a familial tether.

     Row after row she repeats it.

     Getting lower and lower.

     Descending minute after passing minute to the point of kneeling.

     .....Until she is at the last two boxes...her hand shaking...her mind screaming for one of these to be it....

     But they come back empty.

     ..............

     All hearts present belonging to someone else from another time...

     Another place....

     She feels like she’ll never escape....

     “No,” she shouts, slamming her hands against the drawers, rattling them, feeling their sharp corners bite into burning palms. "Where the hell are you?"

     Chest heaving, eyes wild, she takes an angry step back and blasts the wall unit with magic, tearing at its elements, searching for a hidden chest or compartment.

     .................

     But it’s futile.

     ......Nothing new is concealed here.

     ..................

     A dark hysterical chuckle escapes her as she runs her shaking fingers through her hair, uncaring how crazed she looks.

     Pacing, fingers flexing into fists, she finally stops herself...

     And closes her eyes.

     Letting her head fall back.

     Drawing in as much air as she possibly can.

     .................

     A sharp memory comes to her frayed mind.

     One of her and her father in palace gardens.

     Her red blotchy face stained with tears as she violently paces--ranting.

_      ‘Daddy, you don’t know what Mother’s doing to me! It’s like she’s turning me into her! I have to get away!’ _

     .....That had been the day before her wedding. 

     The one where she learned of Rumplestiltskin’s existence.

     Where she found his book...and the magic within her.

     ................

_      Oh how right I was. _

     ................

     She sighs.

     Disappointed with herself.

     Ashamed she didn’t manage to escape until years later.

     .....Until it was all too late.

     ...............

     Flexing her fingers.

     Finding that resolve inside of her that often keeps her going.

     The one that is dark, empty...but capable.

     She moves over to her elegant mirror in a far corner, expecting--for a moment--for Sydney to appear. Realizing however that he won’t, she concedes she’s currently much better off without him. Examining her reflection--pupils blown wide, hair disarrayed, clothes disheveled--she lifts her chin, and runs her right hand softly down the column of her own neck.

     Caressing.

     Warming her chilled skin.

     .....She strokes at the top of her breasts.

     Feeling the faint erratic beat of her own heart beneath the supply flesh.

     ..............

     And then she plunges inward.

     Gritting her teeth.

     Unwilling to cry out or fold under the Evil Queen’s stare.

     .....Muscles spasming, she wraps her delicate fingers around her own pulsating organ....

     And pulls on it....

     Drawing it out...

     Without a sound.

     ..............

     Nostrils flaring.

     Body heaving.

     Skin prickling with goosebumps.

     She eyes her battered organ.

     Noting how much darkness is consuming it.

     How bruised and...ruined...it looks.

     ................

_      I could end this all now, with one quick squeeze. _

     ...............

     The thought is brief.

     And she’s unsurprised when her heart thumps hard in her hand in protest.

     .....Once upon a lifetime she would not have hesitated.

     Not if it meant killing Cora as well.

     .....But with Henry now....and one close call of a death curse under her belt...she’d much rather make her mother suffer in ways that don’t also punish herself or her son.

     ...............

     Thumb tapping against her heart, she shifts it to her left hand.

     Then raises her right, fingers trembling.

     She waves it over the organ....

     ............

     Something unlocks.

     ............

     It’s not physical.

     There’s no sudden manifestation of another heart.

     But there is a dark violet glow around her own....

     Before the all too familiar scented release of her mother’s magic.

     .............

     Frowning.

     Perplexed.

     Regina tilts her head curiously.

     Wondering what has gone wrong.

_      Did I not cast the correct spell? _

_       Is this magic tied in with another charm? _

     ................

     But then she hears something...

     Like a beat echoing just out of sync with her own.

     ................

     Head swiveling, she tries to place it.

     Taking a few steps to her left.

     Then to the right.

     She even walks back over to the collection of hearts, ears straining for that second beat.

     .....But nothing.....

     Eyeing her heart in hand, she slowly brings it closer to hear face, head turning so her left ear is nearer to it....

     And is surprised when she can clearly hear the other heart beat emanating from her own.

     Pulling back, she stares at her organ critically.

     .....Two people can’t share a heart.

     Not even with magic.

     .....So what then,  _ did _ mother do?

     And where the hell, exactly, is her heart?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain in the ass to write.
> 
> First, Regina goes off on an emotional (but understandably so) tangent that totally derails what I had next in line.
> 
> Then others follow suit, to the point, only Hook and Emma are on course--which says a lot about how they handle things.
> 
> Like what the hell?! *Throws hands up in the air*
> 
> .....But it is what it is. Regina's unlocked part of the puzzle to Cora's heart, Hooks getting ready to go hunting, Neal got himself kidnapped (you idiot), Emma's feeling drained and itching to possibly run, and everyone else...is doin' what they always do.
> 
> Wonderful.


	49. It's Gonna Be A Long Night pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays all!
> 
> A fair warning for this chapter, there is violence, blood, and psychotic breaks. Be vigilant in your reading. If you come across something you can't handle, skip over it. All events will be covered in future conversations to a satisfactory point.
> 
> On then to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     “Yes, Snow. I’ll meet you there in a few. Goodbye.”

     With a click, Reul Ghorm closes her cell phone--pocketing the device within the folds of her cloak--and exits her workshop with a parting sweeping look.

     The sun has reached the horizon by now.

     Sinking the oceanside town into eerie stretching shadows.

     Shivering, she draws the collar of her cloak up and starts towards Granny’s diner, eyes darting to the convent, noting the lights coming on and the silhouettes moving about.

    It’s dinner time, and the Sisters are undoubtedly gathering for the meal in the small hall.

     She wants to join them.

     To bask in their familial warmth.

     .....But duty calls.....

     So she continues onward.

     ...................

     “Mother?”

     Gasping with a start, Blue whips her head to her left--hand going to her chest--and spots the bulk of a man stepping away from a nearby bench.

     She readies herself for a fight.

     Defenseless as she is.

     Unsure of what this being wants.

     ....But a sigh of relief suddenly escapes her....

     As a familiar face comes into light.

    “Geppetto,” she breathes, dropping her hands, shoulders going back. “You scared me.”

     “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, expression distant and forlorn.

     She waves him off.

     “It’s alright.” Gesturing towards the distant lights of the diner, she asks, “Have you been summoned as well?”

     The woodcarver nods, falling into step with her as she resumes her walk. “Just as you, I assume.”

     She hums in acknowledgement.

     ........................

     Glancing down, she notices something small in his aged hands, and her mouth twitches as she recognizes the small red cap.

     Catching her gaze, he lifts it--fingering the cloth gently. “I was hoping, y’know, to find him by now.” He shakes his head, throat flexing, tears shimmering in his lined eyes. “But he’s always been good at hiding.” He taps his chest with a trembling hand. “Still, I keep him close. If he could, he would be at this council.”

     Her heart twinges for him.

     Knowing the pain of his loss.

     So intimately well.

     Reaching out, clasping his forearm gently, capturing his stare, she says, “Have faith, Geppetto. You made a strong boy. I have no doubt, when you least expect it, Pinocchio will return to you.”

 

***** 

 

     Rumple fiddles with the lock on one of his backroom storage units.

     Belle has gone off to get them something to eat. Fussing over the notion of him settling for just another cup of tea. His lip twitches as he speculates the odds of her returning with burgers--her affinity for them humoring him greatly.

     Caught up musing over his love....

     He almost misses the way the room around him unexpectedly contracts.

     ....Until the pungent smell of cinnamon and lavender hits him.

     Turning sharply, he’s surprised by two things.

     One--Regina looking about as wild as a feral mare.

     And two--the purplish heart with pulsing strings of red streaking through it that she is clutching tightly.

     .......................

     He eyes her for a beat.

     Speechless.

     .....................

     Until his thoughts catch up with him.

     “A gift for me,” he queries, pointing towards her hand. “How thoughtful.”

     Stepping forward, not even acknowledging his words, she raises the heart between them--pupils dilated, and asks in a low monotone, “Do you hear what I hear?”

     .....................

     Drawing back slightly.

     Perplexed.

     He takes her in warily.

     “Come again?”

     A finger to her lips, Regina presses closer, pushing the beating organ practically into his face. “Shhh. Listen.”

     ....................

_      Well then. _

     ...................

     Releasing a breath through his nose, disturbed, Rumple tilts his head down just a bit--right ear towards the heart between them--and does as asked.

     Senses reaching.

     Searching for what has the Evil Queen in such a state.

     .....Until he hears it.

_      Tha-thump, tha-thump thump. Tha-thump, tha-thump thump. _

     ....................

     Pulling back, the hairs on his body standing as a chill sweeps through him, he points towards the magical cor meum.

     “Whose is that?”

     Regina blinks.

     Then retreats slightly.

     Gaze turning down to the ticker resting in her grasp.

     “It’s mine,” she replies softly.

     ......................

     He finds himself being moved further off balance when she lifts her head back up, eyes wet with unshed tears--brown irises swirling with torment.

     “What did she do to me,” she questions, voice breaking. “How is this possible?” She shakes the organ, her tone rising. “Where the hell is it that I can hear it but not find it, Rumple? Where?”

     .....................

     He has to turn his gaze away.

     Feeling that old--distant--ache and resentment.

     “I don’t know,” he sighs.

     But he has a dark suspicion.

     One he doesn’t like.

     Not one bit.

 

*********

 

     Emma watches the way her mother mingles with the gathering council. Ruby and Granny sharing murmured talks. Doc chatting quietly with Archie in a corner table--bandage still wrapped around his head. Geppetto and Mother Superior nestled into their own private conversation at the other end of the diner counter.

     She almost slammed the eatery door in the Blue Faerie’s face when she saw her coming up the steps. 

     It took Ruby’s firm hand on her bicep, and a look of understanding, to hold her back.

     “Your family has quite the willing assembly,” comes a soft lit from her right.

     Turning her head, Emma notices Belle--blue eyes wandering around the room--as she leans against the formica behind her.

     “I guess,” she replies, forest eyes checking in with Henry who sits beside her on her right.

     He’s as lost and out of place as she is.

     Reminding her of their last gathering at the apartment.

     “Will Regina be joining you?”

     Emma suppresses the audible sigh that wants to escape her.

     But the concern and doubt brewing in her about the other woman must show on her face--Belle reaching out and squeezing her bicep.

     A bag dropping to the counter near the petite princess, she pays for her meal, leans toward Emma--voice low just for her--and says, “Trust is the hardest thing to give someone, especially her, but I haven’t forgotten the look on her face when she took on that death curse to bring you and your mother home.” Their eyes lock, Emma’s breath catching hard in her chest. “Have faith.” Her knowing gaze diverts to the brown head at her shoulder. “Both of you.”

     .................

     Emma swallows, throat thick with questions.

     But silently stares after Belle as she tosses a warm smile Ruby’s way, leaving the diner as elegantly as she had walked in twenty minutes prior to go back to the Dark One.

     .................

     “Alright everyone,” Snow calls, clinking a fork on a glass to gather their attention. “Let’s get started.”

 

*********

 

     Cora grits her teeth hard.

     Desperately ignoring the blisters forming on her wrists and hands, demanding her magic to keep pushing against the weakening binding spell on her shackles.

     She’s done with these games.

     With this waiting.

     Regina wants her?

     All of her?

     Fine then.

     She’ll give her daughter the mother she deserves.

     Every.

     Last.

     Bit of her....

     A guttural growl erupting out of her chest, she feels the magia expand to its threads--stretching beyond its capable means--before it finally shatters in a cloud of light dust.

     Panting, sweat dripping down her face, Cora takes a moment, then flicks her weary hands--the metal cuffs dropping.

     Tilting her head back, closing her eyes, she draws in deep soothing breaths--urging her pounding phantom heart to a calmer pace.

     This is the closest she’s been to it in awhile.

     Regina’s curse having been both a blessing and a curse.

     At least in their world--though realms apart--she had control over it and her emotions.

     Here, however, she feels chaotic.

     Unchained.

     Accessible to feelings she hasn’t dealt with since her daughters conception.

     ....................

     Achy, but capable, she stands.

     Not having much magic left in her.

     Rest is most assuredly a necessity.

     So she leaves her welts be.

     But she unlocks the opening of the cell holding her--relishing the way it bangs loudly in the empty room--and strides out with purpose.

     “Oh dearest,” she hums, heels clicking, making her way back down the hallway Emma Swan had dragged her, “I will prove my love for you.” The next pair of large doors in front of her shatter with a raised lip as she swings her arms apart, straining magic crackling along her fingertips. “And I will show you how no good that White  _ princess _ is.” Night has wrapped itself around the town, allowing her anonymity in its wake. “Just as I did that  _ foolish _ stable boy.”

 

*********

 

     It must be fate that he spots her.

     Alone.

     Shadows hiding him from sight.

_      Oh what luck. _

     A gleam in his eye, Hook slinks along the building fronts, keeping a wise distance, trailing after her.

     If the Imp sent her out unprotected, he’s a fool.

     If the Queen requested an errand, then he owes her one.

     Either way, he will take her as leverage once more.

     And this time, nothing will stop him.

 

*********

 

     Neal groans.

     Trying to gather his bearings.

_      What the fuck? _

     Rocks dig into his back, scraping against his flesh through his thin jacket.

     His stomach is rolling.

     Nose burning with magic.

_      Gods.  _

     He coughs, shifting onto his side.

     Bleary eyes open...

     ...Staring at something large and white in front of him..

     ................

     Until it clicks in his spiraling mind what he’s looking at.

     ................

     “What the hell?”

     Scrambling backwards onto his knees, head swinging about, he angrily searches for the asshole who teleported him.

     “Are you fucking kidding me,” he yells, pushing unsteadily to his feet.

     The leaner man--kneeling over more bones littering the floor of the cavern he can see they are in--looks up from his observation.

     Unperturbed.

     “You’re as uncouth as you are unkempt.” The Man in the Mirror stands, dusting his hands off on his pressed dress pants. “No doubt a result of living in this world for so long.”

     “Hey, fuck you buddy,” he spits, fists forming. “You don’t know shit about me!”

     “I know enough,” the other man counters, malice entering his dark eyes. “Including your associate with Miss Swan.”

     He charges at the mention of Emma.

     Temper snapping.

     ............................

     He has him within his grasp.

     For just a second.

     .....But then the man disappears...

     And before Neal can even react...

     He manifests right behind--an unnaturally strong forearm snatching out, wrapping around his neck, and yanking back.

     ...........................

     Gagging.

     Fingers going to the appendage as the man forcefully holds him against him...

     Neal’s eyes widen in horror.

     A long curved dagger, set with sparkling jewels, appears out of nowhere in the other man’s hand.

_      Oh no! _

_      No, no no no! _

     .........................

     He tries to shove him off.

     Snapping his head back.

     Digging his feet into the dirt below, pushing with his knees.

     .....But the Man in the Mirror only chuckles...

     Then whispers in his ear, while magically forcing his resisting right hand--palm up, “Feel free to scream.”

     “NOOO!!!”

*********

 

     “Do you know why I despised your association with Maleficent so much?”

     The question catches her off guard.

     Blinking, Regina eyes Rumple thoughtfully.

     “No...”

     He turns back to her.

     Expression a mix of irritation and dismay.

     “Because Dragons, dearie, don’t obey the rules of time nor magic.”

     She snorts. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

_      Considering... _

     He shakes his head. “I simply take advantage of already proceeding events. What your former  _ lover _ does is completely different.”

     Regina’s brow furrows.

     Mind drifting back to some of the lengthy conversations her and Mal use to have. Wrapped up in silky sheets by a fire. Skin to skin. Magic to magic.

     She doesn’t often think of her fondly.

     Not after the betrayal that tore them apart.

     ....But she can’t seem to grasp what Rumple is insinuating...

     “Dragons may not abide by the laws of time, but they hardly abuse them either.” It was a lesson Mal had imparted upon her often.

     Another reason why she had kept the dark curse from her.

     Vigilantly so.

     ....................

     Rumple laughs.

     Mockingly.

     Rolling his eyes.

     “Yes, yes. Because they say so, eh?”

     She growls, shaking her heart once more towards him. “Spit it out, Imp, if you have something to say. I’m tired of all of this. In case you’ve forgotten, Maleficent is _dead_. Anything she may have know is useless to me now.”

_      Honestly. _

_      Haven’t they all had enough? _

     ....................

     He goes quiet.

     A grimace on his face.

     Hands resting on the counter behind him.

     .................

     The organ in palm begins to thump apprehensively.

     Its magically tethered companion staying a beat off.

     ................

     “Maleficent is as old as they come,” he states. Sharing nothing new. “As is her methods of making deals with those in need.” Her heart skips a beat. Squeezing. Sweat breaking out across her skin.

_      No...he’s not suggesting... _

     “Like all ancient faerie’s, their selfless deeds are really clever manipulations.” His beady eyes narrow on her cor meum.

     Gaze sour.

_      She didn’t... _

_      She wouldn’t... _

     ...................

     “Cora knew her for a reason, my dear.” His shoulders bunch, expression shifting disgustingly sympathetic. “And I believe the answer you are seeking, is right beneath us.” 

     .................

     Everything inside of her boils.

     Rage.

     Hurt.

     Humiliation.

     All striking at her magic, stirring it destructively to life.

     ...................

     Something at the core of her being snaps.

     ...................

     And she gives in.

 

*****

 

     Sensing the perfect moment approaching, Killian Jones removes the flintlock pistol nestled in his belt, and quietly draws the hammer back.

     He steady’s his breathing.

     Tensing his muscles....

     Then reaches out swiftly with a firm hand, snagging the unsuspecting redhead with unrelenting fingers around her mouth--muffling her scream--pressing the gun against her fair temple as he draws her back.

     “Struggle, lass,” he warns, “and I’ll end you where you stand.”

     She trembles against him.

     Fingers going heedless to his hands.

     Nails digging into his flesh, unrelenting, he growls, backpedaling quickly--allowing darkness to swallow them up.

     He shakes her, pinching her face, grip digging into the bones of her cheek.

     “Enough,” he sneers into her ear, anger swelling inside him.

_      Why can’t she just cooperate? _

     She tries prying his fingers apart.

     Boney shoulders twisting and turning.

     Head arching back to connect solidly with his chin.

_      Wench! _

     Temper raging, he spins her about, slamming his body into her front, pressing her hard against a nearby wall.

     “I will kill you,” he bites, pressing the barrel of his pistol harshly against her. “Quit your struggling!” He pushes his hook up, tilting it so the tip scratches against her neck.

     “Then do it,” she rasps defiantly, chin lifted, heart hammering against her breast, matching his own rhythm.

     .....................

     He shakes with the desire to do so.

     To cut Rumpelstiltskin down the same way he had done to him.

     ...................

     He leans until they are nose to nose.

     Her lips scant centimeters from his own.

     Her scent tickling his flaring nostrils.

     ...................

_      What a creature she is...to want the Dark one...to protect him no matter the cost to herself.... _

     ..................

     “As you wish,” he sighs.

_      A shame. _

_      Truly. _

     .................

     With barely a breath of hesitation, he steps back and raises the pistol.

     Pulling the trigger the same time she opens her mouth.

     A scream erupts into the night.

     Shattering the revolving world around them.

     The same time the bullet exits the chamber, piercing through the air in rapid pace...

     ...And striking dissipating flesh.

 

*********

     “Like I was saying,” Snow reiterates, patience wearing thin with her council as she presses her fingers into the table in front of her. “Rumpelstiltskin may be immortal, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be hurt.”

_      Why can no one understand that? _

_      Are they clueless to how tactile both Hook and Cora are? _

     “Be that as it may,” Blue speaks up, gaze unwavering to her narrow stare. “Our biggest concern should be gathering as much fairy dust as is possible for a more sound solution.” Her chin raises a bit, and Snow resist the desire to smack the woman.

     She’s been a great ally for so long.

     She owes Reul Ghorm an unpayable debt...

     Conflicting with her now will do them no good...

      _But still..._

     “Oh come off it,” Emma snaps, pushing to her feet, eyes blazing.

     Regina’s absence.

     And Emma’s own short temper.

     Have kept her daughter on edge to the point she had to block out the sound of her boot tapping agitatedly against the tile floor of the diner just to conduct this meeting.

     “Your precious dust isn’t going to do shit against Cora or Hook if we don’t have it by tonight!” Emma slams her hands on the table they are sitting around, startling everyone. “We’ve been arguing uselessly for the past ten minutes and I’ve yet to hear anyone pitch an idea beyond that goddamn cell that clearly was a want of Rumple’s considering he could escape any time he chose to.”

     “Not true,” counters Doc with a shake of his head. “The faerie dust and squid ink both immobilized him.”

     Emma snorts in disbelief. “Are you sure about that? ‘Cause it sounds to me he was exactly where he wanted to be.” Her fiery green eyes meet her own. Holding. “A willing captive in the perfect position to deal and manipulate everyone around him panicking over the curse  _ he _ made and persuaded Regina to cast.”

     Snow bows her head.

     Grimacing at the hindsight of Emma’s words.

     She was likely right.

     Rumple had played them all.

     Well.

     And like a frightened Queen, she had fallen right into his plans.

     “Alright,” Ruby breaks in, standing just to the right of her. “Maybe we all need to--”

     Her words are disrupted by a startling scream.

     ....Followed a second later by a resounding gunshot....

*****

 

     Cora smiles.

     The lines around her mouth cutting deep into her cheeks.

      _Everything in place. Exactly as I like it._

     How fortunate was she to find her daughter standing with her former mentor just feet from where his new love is being assaulted by his sworn enemy?

     Truly, the Gods could not have granted her a more perfect moment.

     "Let's end this," she says into a passing wind.

     With a flick of her right wrist, the dear sweet girl of Rumpelstiltskin's fancy disappears from the clutches of the Pirate just as his pistol rings off...

     And into a heap beside.

     Air thick with the scent of leaking copper.

     She hums satisfactorily...

     Then turns her attention towards the store front window.

     With a sadistic sneer, she raises both her hands.

     Summoning as much magic as she can spare...

     And then pushes it forward.

 

     An unexpected sharp cry distracts her.

     Head snapping up, her burning gaze lifting from her own flesh to her former mentor, Regina watches--shockingly--as Rumple grabs his suddenly trembling right hand at the wrist. The skin around it glowing a faint red.

     The flesh pulling, by an unseen force, until it splits open.

     Blood gushes in a steady--splattering--stream onto the hardwood floor of the shop.

     Staining it crimson.

     “What the hell,” she barks, torn between stepping closer to assist a very clearly frightened Dark One.

     And stepping back....

     Wary of whatever magic is attacking him.

_      By the Gods! What is happening? _

     .................

     A choice is made for her, however, a second later.

     When she smells a disheartening scent...

     Just before a rushing blast of magia shatters the windows of the antique shop...

     Forcing her into a crouch.

     Glass splintering the air around them...

     While her heart thunders between her hands and her chest.

 

     Hook blinks for a moment.

     Staring at the spot where the young princess had stood....

     Then lets go of his last shred of sanity.

     “NO,” he bellows into the blinding shadows.

     Pivoting around like a madman.

     “NO!”

     He slams his hook into the wall, sparks flashing violently into inky blackness.

     A boot swings out, kicking at anything and everything nearby.

     “SHOW YOURSELF,” he screams ferociously.

     Stepping out into the street.

     Eyes seeking.

     “WITCH!” Spittle flies from his mouth. “SHOW YOURSELF!”

     .....................

     He’s met with the crashing sound of glass in the distance.

     .....................

     Swinging his head around, he starts running in that direction.

     Damned if he’ll let her take what is his.

 

_      Oh Gods! _

Terrified eyes whip to the window as people scramble.

     Henry by her left side.

     Archie next to him.

_ No, no, no, no! _

     Heart pounding, Snow doesn’t even register the air rushing by her or the banging of a bell...

     Until she spots Emma...

     Quickly followed by Ruby...

     Racing down the street.

     “Get away from the windows and lock the doors,” she commands everyone, urging Henry back into Granny’s receptive arms.

_      Dammit! _

     Mind spinning.

     Skin tingling with sharp senses as the people around her move.

     She turns to a nearby table.

     She had gut feeling about this ever since the Sheriff’s station.

     An unsteady rock of doubt weighing her bowels down.

     Reaching forward, she grabs the bow and quiver of arrows she had stashed there just before the council’s gathering, and strides towards the front door.

     “Don’t let anyone in,” she orders, reaching it with an arrow drawn. “No matter who it is.”

_      This ends now. _

_      One way or another. _

_      Enough is enough! _

     ..............

     “Grandma,” Henry suddenly calls after her.

     Fear in his trembling voice.

     ...............

     Pausing, she turns back to look at him.

     Offering him a tight smile.

     “Don’t worry, Henry. I won’t let anything happen to your mom.” She draws in a sharp breath, adding in promise, “Both of them.”

     .............

     He absorbs her words with a solemn nod.

     .................

     It pierces her heart the doubt he has in her.

     The tentative trust.

     Because he knows.

     Just as much as they all do.

     What's at stake right now.

     Shooting a parting glance to the old wolf behind him, she pushes out into the night, boots hitting the pavement, just as she spots black leather running down the street a few paces ahead of her.

_      Not this time, Hook. _

     She notches the rod between her fingers.

     Pulling back as she continues forward, sharp eyes tracking.

_      Not in my town. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever heard "Blood In The Cut" by K. Flay? If not, you should. It inspired this chapter greatly (and the coming ones after this).
> 
> Whew.
> 
> So...shit be going down!
> 
> I'm ready to start wrapping things up. As Rumple said in a previous chapter, they've all been trapped in a building bottle and once the cork pops, there is little promise they'll all make it out of this madness alive.
> 
> Hook deserves his revenge. Unfortunate for Belle and Rumple. So I'm giving it to him...even though he's going to pay dearly for it.
> 
> Neal, the poor bastard, is being reminded why he hates magic and fairytale characters so much. I feel for him, I truly do, as I literally know the pain of having your hand impaled. It's incredibly unpleasant...and leaves you with a morbid fascination of the human body's ability to withstand some serious shit.
> 
> Regina....she done lost her mind...but so has mommy dearest so I guess it's time they set words aside and duke it out!
> 
> You go Snow! Emma! Ruby! Go save this town! Kick some ass!
> 
> .....Are these cliff hangers too much stress? Let me know. I'm trying not to overwhelm with so much going on.


	50. It's Gonna Be A Long Night pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy almost 2018! 
> 
> I am so ready for a new year. This one has been..shit. Straight up. On to bigger and brighter things, eh?
> 
> And on to the story! This is the last part before we get a new player to the showdown of villains! :D
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     Rumple’s eyes dart from his torn apart hand to the shattered panes of his storefront--heart racing, magic surging, hate building a fire in his gut.

     Often ignored voices whisper viciously in his mind.  _ Kill them! Rip them apart with your teeth! Burn this world to ashes! Kill, Rumpelstiltskin! Kill! Kill, kill, KILL! _

     A savage growl resonates up out of his throat.

     Teeth bared.

     Eyes black as coal.

     A figure moves forward in the nearest street light and he twists his good hand, tossing a wild ball of brutal dark magic at it--just missing Regina as she pushes up onto her feet, head whipping around to follow the destructive projectile.

     .....He doesn’t wait to see if his strike hits its mark.

     With a flash of black smoke, he disappears from his shop to reappear a beat later on the pavement outside....

     Unsurprised to find the Queen of Hearts cackling meters away.

     Hunched.

     Rising unsteadily to meet him.

     ................

     “You narcissistic wench,” he grits out, chest heaving. “I’ll turn your bones to dust, heart or no heart!”

     “You don’t have the guts, Imp,” she taunts, erratic breathing and insane gaze matching his own. “You’re too weak!”

     He snarls at her, hand swinging up to blast at her once more...

     But he’s brought to an abrupt halt as four events unfold in mere seconds around him.

     First, a powerful stream of purple magic shoots past his shoulder, forcing Cora to defend herself with a weak shield. Second, a distant shout draws his attention just enough that he can see Miss Swan--and a shape shifting Ruby Lucas--rapidly approaching from his peripheral. The third is an unwanted--and disturbingly unexpected--Captain Hook hot on their heels.

     The last, however, makes his heart stop full force.

     Sucking his desire to fight right out of him.

     Making his world spin--dizzyingly so.

     ......A hand, from out of sight, grasps at his pant leg, startling him.

     He looks down...

     To find a crumpled red head bleeding onto the asphalt by his feet...

     In a soul crushing familiar shade of white.

     He gasps.

_      No! _

     Like the cutting blow of a sword, everything goes cold.

     “Belle,” he cries out, blue eyes trickling tears rolling up to meet his gaze.

     He collapses, weak-kneed, beside her.

     “Oh, oh Belle,” he whimpers, body trembling with swirling emotions, “W-What’s happened to you? Who-who-who did this?”

_      She was gone only minutes! _

_      How could he have let this happen? _

     Sensing a presence beside him, he looks up to find Regina stepping out onto the walk....

     Their eyes connect.

     For a tick, neither say a word.

     Then she drops her phone into his lap, Storybrooke’s emergency line already open.

     .....And he knows she sees it.

     Sees it in the way his hand is still dripping along with the growing puddle beneath his love. In the way he’s shaking. In the obsessive worrying of his bottom lip. In his own paling complexion.

     .....He can’t heal her....

     And she doesn’t have time to...

     Not with Cora standing across from them.

     ....................

     “H-hold on, Belle,” he pleads, fingers quaking as he brings the device up to his ear, waiting for the voice on the other end to address him. “Please, just hold on!”

  
  


     “Holy shit!” Emma slows to a trot, mind absorbing everything going down in front of her.

     There, just outside Gold’s shop, stands Regina and Cora, facing off.

     The witch, as it is apparent, free of her confines.

     Beside the former Mayor kneels Rumpelstiltskin and a young woman whose face she can’t see....

     But the growing knot in her stomach tells her it has to be Belle...

     And her heart constricts at the notion of the princess being severely wounded.

_      Oh God. We never stood a chance! _

_      Time is up! _

_      Jesus. Time is up!! _

     ..................

     A shape suddenly jumps past her, surprising her so that she skids to a stop.

     Eyes wide.

     Mouth falling open.

_      Is that.....?! _

_      What the FUCK?!! _

     .....She’s speechless as a wolf-- _ a HUGE wolf! _ \--leaps between the familial witches, circling the Evil Queen and Rumple. Teeth bared protectively.

_      Wait is that..? _

_      Ruby?!..... _

     “No fucking way,” she whispers, heart thumping with disbelief.

_      Big bad wolf my ass! _

_      She’s a goddamn monster! _

     .....She shakes her head, trying to gather her bearings.

_      I gotta do something.  _

_      Get Cora’s attention, or--or help Regina with magic. Or maybe... _

     Her thoughts are interrupted, unexpectedly, by a loud cry bursting into the night behind her.

     Whirling, unclasping her gun and drawing it as she moves into a defensive pose, she’s shocked to see Hook, of all people, collapsing to the ground just feet away--agony rippling across his crazed face.

     .....And an arrow protruding from his left shoulder.

     “What the hell?”

_      Who the...? _

     “Emma!”

     Looking up at the call of her name, she sees MM running towards her.

     Bow up--another arrow notched--shifting her aim from Hook, to the chaos unfolding behind her, and back again.

     “You shot him?”

     It’s a stupid question.

     The answer obvious.

     But it escapes her mouth, incredulous, before her brain can stop her.

     Because, y’know, she’s still embracing the whole Snow White was a bandit thing!

_      Speaking of... _

     Snow nods. Chest rising and falling with adrenaline. “He was pursuing you, I took a chance! Who knows what he’s been up to!”

     Emma’s gaze darts from the wounded pirate to her mother.

     Head bobbing.

     “Right. Yeah. Ok.”

     ....What else could she say?

     Her mother opens her mouth again to add something--eyes like her own shifting to Gold’s shop.

     But words fail her....

     And a gasp of alarm comes out instead.

     Turning, Emma sucks in a sharp breath, fear and conflict squeezing her chest tight.

  
  


     “You’ve gone too far, Mother,” Regina seethes--fingers flexing, swirling with magic.

     The older woman chuckles.

     Raising her chin.

     Infuriating her more. “No, daughter dearest, you have.”

     A deep rumble reverbs off her ears, interrupting them, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

     Sharp eyes seeking, she pivots, keeping her mother insight while she zeroes in on their newcomer.

     Out of nowhere, a massive dark form bounds past her peripheral to circle herself and Rumple.

     Eyes hued bright with magic and malice...

     Before coming to a protective stance beside her.

_      Oh Miss Lucas... _ she breathes in deeply, blood humming.

_      You wonderful, wonderful girl! _

     Toes practically curling at the flicker of anger--and fear--crossing Cora’s face upon sight of the large creature, she reaches out and runs her fingers through the soft mane, gibing with a wicked grin, “Say hello to my not so little friend, dearie.” Hatred burns in her gaze, singeing her synapsis. “She’s not fond of backstabbing heathens like you!!”

     “Heathen?” Her mother scoffs. “You’re the one who retains such disgustingly low standards, Regina.” The Miller’s daughter frowns, taking a step forward, glaring at Ruby. “Cavorting with beasts like a simple minded mammal. Really, you’re as undeserving of the title of Queen as you’ve ever been.” Their stares lock, a cruel smile slithering across thin lips. “But I’ll fix that, just as I did before your marriage to the King.”

_      Bitch!!! _

     A wild roar breaks out of her throat.

     Sending her magic into overdrive.

     Tossing a hot white fireball at her mother, she follows it quickly with a second, then a third--watching with consuming fury as the older woman deflects, apparates, and deflects again with deceptive grace.

     Ruby snaps her sharp teeth together, leaping at Cora when she attempts to appear just in front of Regina, forcing the other woman to retreat with a guttural bark of frustration.

     Every cell within her is vibrating with magia and emotions.

     She can smell the particles in the air around them filling and expanding.

     Building like a tempest.

     “You  _ never  _ loved me,” she screams at the wretched monster that birthed her. Circling, stepping away from Rumple and turning her back to the open street. “You  _ used _ me!  _ Abused  _ me! Treated me like a  _ worthless _ puppet who was undeserving of  _ anything _ but punishment and torment until I caved into doing what you wanted me to!”

_      By the Gods she despised this woman! _

_      Everything she stood for! _

_      Every weakness! _

_      Every brutal hit! _

_      Every failure! _

_      Every loss! _

_      Every doubt within her! _

_      Cora Mills is the bane of her existence and she MUST go! _

     “You fight like a child,” her mother snides, taking a moment to catch her breath.

     ..................

     Regina does the same.

     Realizing she’s getting nowhere coming at the Queen of Hearts like an emotionally driven lunatic.

_      Dammit! _

     A warm sensation sparks to life suddenly on her bicep.

     Stimulating her.

     Tickling her senses with spring rain and sunshine.

     Making her hidden heart swell...

_      Emma! _

  
  


     Hook laughs.

     Pain cutting through his shoulder.

     Body curled upon the ground.

     Arrow deeply rooted in him.

     Blood dribbles off his leather, leaving a smattering like tiny puddles of spilt rum....

     But his revenge is gloriously sated at the sight of the Dark One crouched over his broken love...

     All while Cora faces her comeuppance.

_      Finally... _

     “Kill her,” he shouts between fits to her Majesty--uncaring how daft he seems--as Regina paces and tosses fiery barbs at her mother. “Kill her for your love!” His disheveled face contorts with pure malice. “KILL HER FOR YOUR BOY!”

_      Kill ‘em all, my Queen! _

_      Kill ‘em all! _

_      Deal what fate has denied us for too long! _

     A boot comes out of nowhere.

     Striking him hard in the ribs.

     Cracking at least one, air rushing out of him in a deep  _ ‘ooof!’. _

     “Shut it,” hisses the fair White Queen above him. Bow still in hand. “Or I’ll put another arrow in you!”

     He gurgles a little.

     Wheezing.

     .....But smiles up at her....

     “Oh love,” he croaks, eyes falling back to the battle going on, “You’re too late.” He lets his head rest on the pavement. Pebbles grinding into the skin of his temples, another sharp laugh escaping passed anguished lips. “The Queen and I got what we deserve.”

 

*********

 

     “Y-YOU PSYCHO,” Neal screams, then whimpers--eyes crinkling in misery as he grips his right hand tightly, shell shocked by the seeping wound in the palm of it.

_      H-he just stabbed me!! _

_      Jesus fucking Christ!! _

     Over five years living in New York, and not once had he been mugged.

     Barely twelve hours in Storybrooke, and he’s already been kidnapped and assaulted.

_      Fucking fairytales... _

     Pain pulses from the wound up his arm.

     Fingers twitching involuntarily.

     He gasps, drawing his hand into his body, biting his lip as he presses it against his abdomen to stop the flow of blood. “What the hell is WRONG with you,” he shouts, looking up from his knelt position where he had dropped after watching the magical blade pierce through him. “Huh? ASSHOLE!”

     But the Man in the Mirror ignores him.

     Instead, he takes his blood soaked blade and starts chanting in a language Neal doesn’t recognize. He casts the knife out sharply, flicking blood into four sharp arcs, then starts weaving through the few dragon bones lying about--drawing runes so old he’s unsure of their purpose....

     Until the ground glows bright.

     Like a flash going off...

     And then begins to grumble.

     “Oh no,” he groans, rocking forward. “No, no, no, no, no!” He turns to the man, watching him slide his dagger into place on his belt--still stained scarlet. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re resurrecting a-a dragon!” His gaze darts back to the large skull he had first seen--taking note how massive the empty eye sockets are. “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!”

     “Yes,” the Man in the Mirror replies, hands clasped, back straight, eyes taking in the wonder of ashes starting to rise around them. “Quite so.”

     It’s like snowfall in reverse.

     Dark.

     Ominous.

     Consuming.

_      No fucking way... _

     Shaking his head, hand throbbing, he rocks forward again, pushing up--stumbling to his feet--and then back peddles. Getting as far away from the unfolding summoning as he can....

     Until he loses his footing on some loose rocks.

     Wobbling, realizing--with a startling fear--that there is a deep ravine just a meter behind him, he shuffles quickly to his left.

     Colliding unpleasantly with a large boulder.

     He winces at the way the jolt sets his arm and hand on fire.

     The searing pain so intense his stomach starts to churn.

     Sweat breaking across his skin.

     .............................

     A deep laughter begins to echo above the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

     He looks over to see the Man in the Mirror with his head thrown back.

     Eyes shining bright in madness.

     And wonder...

     As the eerie natural luminescent light around them grows dimmer, thick clouds now forming above their heads--strobing red with unruly magic.

     The stark white bones begin to rattle.

     Like the whole cavern is shaking...

    _I’ve gotta do something!_

_      I’ve gotta... _

     But there is nothing for him to do.

     He doesn’t have magic.

     He has no weapon to fight with.

     And even if he did, his good hand is severely wounded.

     .....So he does what he’s good at....

     And bolts....

     Running further into the recesses.

     Hoping like hell there is another way out.

     Before the Dragon is reborn.

 

*********

     “Do you hear that?” David pauses in his picking.

     Ears straining.

     Listening.

     For the off sound that he heard just a second ago.

     ..... “What,” calls sneezy, the closest one to him down in the depths of the mine.

     “I heard something,” he mutters, lowering his pickaxe, brow furrowing.

     A minute ticks by..

     Then other.

     ....He shakes his head.

     And sighs.

     “Guess it was nothing.”

_      Could of sworn though... _

     Sneezy shrugs, turning back to his own work.

     ....But David hears it again not two minutes later.

     The faintest sound of rocks groaning.

     His heart stutters.

     Ears reaching for clarity on the noise.

_      Is it an impending cave-in? _

_      ........No.....it’s too deep... _

_      To guttural. _

_      .....Almost.....animal like... _

_      What the hell is that then? _

     ................

     “Everyone out!” The words leave him before he even registers he’s thinking it. Pickaxes going silent one by one, he quickly grabs his coat and nods towards the far exit, back up the shaft. “I mean it. Out! Now!”

     Grumpy opens his mouth to protest, giving him a dirty look, but David just shoves him backwards with a low growl, “Not now. Get moving!”

     The dwarf stumbles.

     Cursing him under his breath.

     But he gets going nonetheless.

     .....David shakes his head.

     Heart starting to pick up its pace.

_      Something’s not right. _

     He can feel it.

_      Whatever that noise is...it can’t be good... _

     Feet moving quickly, he’s almost at a run by the time he sees the entrance to the mine up ahead. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out his cell phone, and sees he has three missed calls from Granny.

_      Shit!  _

     As soon as the signal bar lights up on his device, he hits her number.

     “Granny? Hey, it’s me. What’s going--”

     He comes to a jarring stop as everything around him suddenly quakes.

     The ceiling cracking.

     Loose rocks falling and some blowing out by pressurized steam.

     Timber posts creak.

     And the floor stirs to the point he’s struggling to stay upright.

_      Oh shit! _

     “GRANNY,” he shouts, making a mad dash towards the entrance now. “TELL SNOW THE MINE IS CAVING! THE MINE IS CAVING!”

     He doesn’t get the chance to say anything more as the shaft starts to collapse.

     Forcing him into a dive...

     Just in time to make it outside of the tunnel before it folds in on itself completely.

 

*****

 

     Snow turns away from Hook, a grimace on her face at the man’s words.

     Coming back to Emma, she takes in Regina and Cora having it out.

     Ruby,  _ very surprisingly _ , assisting her Majesty.

     It’s the second time her best friend has gone to the older woman’s side, and she’s beginning to wonder what’s been transpiring between them behind her back. 

_      Are they....friendly now? _

     David had informed her about the true origin of Red’s cloak.

     She was mostly surprised...

     Except...

     She remembers young Regina.

     Her compassion.

     Her loving, nurturing, nature.

     Her desire to be a good Queen to their people.

     ........................

     ....And then her turning around and slaughtering them.

     Village by village.

     One defiant defector--who dared to help her--after another.

     Leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.

     .........................

     “We need to stop this,” she says, resetting the arrow in her grip, sea green eyes flickering from her daughter to the battling witches. “Before it goes to far. Storybrooke can’t afford a magical war.”

     “Ya think,” snorts Emma, antsy feet shuffling, eyes bouncing from Regina, to Cora, to Rumple and back again. “IF we take Cora down, Regina will back off.”

     “Or turn on us.”

     Because the chestnut eyed brunette has always been touchy about people interfering in her matters.

     Especially familial ones.

     .............

     But her daughter shakes her head.

     Eyes firm.

     “No, she won’t.”

     .....Snow bites her lip to keep from rolling her eyes or voicing her doubt.

     Yet again.

_      How can Emma be so certain? _

     Ever since their return she has been questioning...and deliberately ignoring, some of the ways Regina and her daughter have been interacting. It’s unsettling--their camaraderie. Their almost...similar ways of reacting to situations. 

     Both hot tempered.

     Both with hard edges.

     Both with the single mindset that Henry is everything. 

     She knows they have been wheeling and dealing since Emma’s arrival in Storybrooke. Sometimes for common goals. Other times to usurp one another...but always--in one form or another--coming together.

     By divinity of the curse alone they should get on like fire and water.

     Yet....

     They interact harmoniously

     .....Like fire and gasoline instead.

     ...................

     “Get to the roof of the pawn shop.” Her daughter's words shake her from her thoughts.

     Confused, she turns, eyeing said intent questioningly.

     “You’re our best shot if I can’t help Regina subdue Cora,” Emma explains, double checking the rounds in her gun. Meeting her gaze, she takes a deep breath, shoulders bracing. “I gave her one chance. She blew it.” The blonde’s eyes glimmer--uncomfortably like the man still chittering behind them. “No more outs. You get a shot at any point, I want you to take it.”

     Snow’s heart constricts.

     Over Emma’s meaning...

     And the potential impending consequences of such an action should she take it. 

     ..................

     She pulls in her own deep breath.

     Head nodding until she can find her words.

     ....”Ok.”

     Emma nods back.

     Eyes returning to her former stepmother.

_      Ok. _

  
  


     Rumple tosses Regina’s phone somewhere behind him.

     The device useless now.

     Just like his magic.

     .....Belle’s lips have started to darken. Purple tinting the once vibrant petal pink pout. His own skin has gone sallow. His blackened heart trudging along, keeping him going.

     He’ll survive.

     Of that, there is no doubt.

     ....But his love....his Belle...

     “H-hey.” He taps her lightly on the cheek. Urging her to keep her eyes open as they await the arrival of an ambulance. “C’mon, Belle, y’ have to stay with me.” 

     She whimpers.

     Brow drawing down sharp.

     Body starting to tremble at the amount of blood loss she has suffered.

     The bullet wound was another painful surprise to him. 

     Solidifying his speculation of who attacked the young librarian.

     ......Cora’s not the type to use such barbaric means....

     Which leaves only one repugnant suspect.

     His onyx stare narrows in on said individual as he turns his head to where he had last seen him.

     For the moment, satisfied to find him railing on the asphalt.

     A visible arrow protruding from his odious form.

     He growls at the pirate who refuses to die.

_      I’ll end you, Killian Jones.  _

_      Just you wait. _

_      Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I’ll grind your bones.... _

_      Until your soul is mine.   _

 

 

     “Hey!”

     The shout draws Cora’s attention.

     Shifting her gaze from her daughter, she catches the White Princess--armed with something--moving aggressively towards her.

     The unexpected body of Captain Hook rolling around--distressingly so--behind her.

_      Finally! _

     Oh how she has burned for this moment!

     “It’s over, Cora,” Emma Swan declares, eyes shimmering with that insufferable fierce determination. “Drop the magic!”

     “Or what,” she asks, gaze darting to Regina and furry companion, “You’ll end me?”

     The object in her grasp clicks.

     Rising higher.

     Aiming at her head.

     "Yes,” the Sheriff states matter of factly.

     ...................

     Her lip twitches.

     Uncertainty filling her as she eyes the unfamiliar device.

     “You would deny your grandson the opportunity for more family?”

     Her daughter shakes her head in her peripheral. Brown orbs like her own seeking out forest green.

     “You ruined that chance long ago, mother” rasps Regina, stance even more defensive and wary. “Stop this. Now. Before it’s too late.”

     Cora frowns. “You started this!  _ All _ I have  _ ever _ wanted is the best for you. I’ve given  _ so much _ . Done, so much,  _ just _ to give you chance after chance for greatness!”

_      Why can’t she see that? _

_      Why could she never get it through her thick skull? _

     “Bullshit.” The White Princess takes a step closer, moving slightly towards her daughter. “You did all of that for  _ you _ .”

     “LIES,” she seethes, body shaking with rage and distress. “You insipid little girl! You know NOTHING of ME!”

     “No,” Regina cuts in, taking a step her way, face conflicting with anger and pain. “But I do.” With a wave of her hand, a heart suddenly appears in her daughter’s grasp.

_      No. _

     Her own absent one clenches.

_      No! _

_      She couldn’t have... _

_      She wouldn’t! _

  
  


     Emma’s eyes almost pop out of her head as the organ materializes in Regina’s hand.

    “Oh my God,” she gasps, meeting the other woman’s fleeting glance. “What the HELL, Regina?”

_      A heart?! _

_      She’s holding a fucking heart! _

     The former Mayor scowls at her shock, shrugging it off dismissively, while seeming to guess her next question by revealing, “It’s mine, Sheriff, relax.”

_      ....Relax? _

_      RELAX?! _

     “You took your fucking heart out?” Her voice breaks like a pubescent teenager with disbelief. “WHAT THE HELL?”

_      SERIOUSLY! _

_      Of all the.... _

_      Is that what she was doing instead of meeting me at the diner? _

_      TAKING HER GODDAMN HEART OUT?! _

     “I had no choice,” Regina bites back, voice sharp. She gestures angrily towards her mother. “I lied earlier! I had to! When mother told me where her heart was I just...” She growls, unable to finish her reasoning. 

_      Ping. _

     .....So that had been it.....

     Regina HAD known after all.

     “So you decided to look for it yourself?! Dammit, woman! Why?”

     She could have helped!

     She could have stopped her from doing...this!

     “BECAUSE I NEEDED TO KNOW,” the older woman shouts, eyes blazing with hostility...and....hurt?

     Gaze darting briefly to Cora, Emma slides a step closer to Regina, drawing in a steadying breath, asking lowly, “What happened?”

     ...................

     Chin raising...

     Even as it wobbles slightly...

     The Evil Queen shifts her stare to her mother, replying bitterly, “She tethered her heart to my own. With the help of someone I THOUGHT was a friend.”

     ...................

     Emma bites her lip, feeling her stomach roll with sympathy and revulsion.

_      Jesus.... _

     She shakes her head.

_      Did Regina ever have a chance? _

_      Were they so much alike that even she couldn’t catch a break at birth? _

     .....The older woman sniffs, glaring at her mother as a tear starts down her cheek. “Was I ever my own person,” she asks Cora, voice husky, breaking with anguish. “Was I ever ANYTHING other than a pawn?”

     ..................

     The Queen of Hearts eyes the organ.

     A flurry of emotions passing across her face.

     .....Before she drops her defensive stance and raises her own chin.

     Majesty to Majesty.

     Mother to child.

     Matching whiskey eyes locking.

     ...... “Everything you have been since you cast me to Wonderland,” the elder starts, tone sour, “has been of your own making.  _ I  _ am not accountable for you lacking success.” She tilts her nose up haughtily. “I did what I did to keep us close. To ensure, like any mother would, that we would always be in each other’s life.”

_      Oh God.... _

     Emma wants to puke.

     The psychotic delusion of Cora’s rational making her skin crawl.

_      For the love of all things... _

     Chancing a glance to Regina, she’s unsurprised to find her pale--almost ghostly--at the affirmation and reasoning.

_      Jesus... _

     ...................

     Opening her mouth to say something-- _ anything _ \--as distant sirens begin to echo closer, Emma feels an unexpected trembling in her feet.

     She tenses. 

_      What the...? _

     Frowning, glancing down, the pavement beneath her lets loose a deep rumble--throwing her off balance.

_      Aw hell! What NOW? _

     “Regina,” she asks warily.

     Ruby whines and suddenly trots over to Rumple and Belle--nudging them both...

     As if urging them to move....

     The Evil Queen shakes her head, apprehensive gaze moving from her mother to the now steadily shaking ground beneath them. “I-I don’t know what’s going on!”

_      Great! _

_      Just fucking great! _

     “Emma!”

     Her head snaps up to her mother’s fearful cry, spotting Snow moving to the edge of Gold’s rooftop....

     Giving her hidden position away.

_      Mother fucker! _

     She opens her mouth to holler back.....

     But finds herself mute as the road beneath her boots crack sharply.

     Splintering and bucking.

     Like a violent earthquake.

     “EMMA!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew!
> 
> I just...yeah. 
> 
> What are you rooting for? Cora's demise? Hook's? Belle's recovery and Rumple's subsequent revenge? Emma and Regina having a heart to heart? Maleficent's return? Neal's revealing?
> 
> All the above?
> 
> Hmm...me too....


	51. Enter the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update, but it sets the stage for the last few chapters.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ ‘We are monsters oh, oh _

_ We are, we are, we are monsters, oh _

 

_ We never shoot to stun, we're kings of the killing _

_ We're out for blood, we'll take them one by one _

_ We’re kings of the killing, we’re out for blood’ _

 

“Monsters”

By Ruelle

  
  
  


**_Storybrooke_ **

 

     There has been a lot for her to process over the past week.

     Henry’s curse being real.

     Her parents being here, about her age, and fairytale characters.

     Regina being an Evil Queen.

     Her being a supposed Savior.

     Other realms.

     Magic.

     Destiny.

     Pirates.

     And villains.

     Out of all of this, what has left her the most stunned--and holding on to the hope that this is all some twisted coma dream--are the creatures that break her mental mold of reality. The ones she sees in movies and read about in books.

     The ones that hide under the skin of her friends.

     Her acquaintances.

     Her neighbors.

     .....And the ones that lurk below the small town she thought was just a sleepy little port....

     These are the entities that challenge her senses.

     That test her believability.

     That make it overwhelmingly clear to her...

     That even the most mythical are very, very, real.

     After all...she’s faced a Dragon before...

     And defeated it.

     But no one ever said anything about it being capable of coming back.

 

     “EMMA!”

     She’s not sure who’s shouting her name.

     Snow?

     Regina?

     It’s a bit unclear.

     The only thing she’s certain of is standing in the middle of the street one moment, and then being bucked into the air--then onto her back--yards away as the ground pushes itself up as something large and hot comes barreling right through.

_      Son of a....!!! _

     She groans, the air  _ ‘oofing’ _ right out of her--ribs and muscles spazzing with sharp pain. An onslaught of falling asphalt begins to pelt her, jagged and hot, forcing her to quickly roll onto a side and cover herself with her arms.

_      Ow! Ow! OW! OW!  _

_      Dammit! _

_      My jacket! _

     A ferocious rumbling, followed by a familiar high pitched whine, echoes around her into an ear splitting roar like something out of Jurassic Park. She trembles with adrenaline and fear--very aware of her vulnerability.

     She doesn’t know how to access her magic.

     She’s without her father’s heroic sword.

     And being exposed, out in the open of Storybrooke like this, is way worse than being trapped in that cavern with only her life on the line.

     She’s terrified to look.

     To see what is flapping loudly above her.

     Shaking the ground.

     Making the air and raining debris swirl like being caught in the wake turbulence of a passing jet.

     .....But she’s not alone....

     And Regina needs her.

  
  


     Of all the experiences that have caught Cora by surprise since she stepped ashore of this Gods-forsaken town...

     This moment has to be the most shocking.

     .....And bone chilling of all....

     “It cannot be,” she whispers, a sharp inhalation of breath catching in her chest.

     She stumbles back, distancing herself from the torrent of magical anarchy swirling and fanning itself out into the sky above.

_      No! _

     She knew her daughter had been selective in the individuals she brought along with the disastrous curse. But this one? She _ had _ to include  _ HER _ ? 

     ................

     She just assumed the woman had faded off into the shadows those long twenty eight years, hiding deep within her Forbidden Mountain, unwilling to deal with the destruction the curse had delivered to their homeland.

     She had never considered....

     But....

     Why?

     .................

_       Foolhardy! _

_      Has she always secretly known? _

_      Was her pursuit just a ruse to lure me out into the open like this? _

_      To trap me yet again? _

_      Locking me against fate? _

     “What have you done,” she bellows at her child over the thundering noise of corporeal wings beating. “REGINA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

  
  


     She can hear her.

     Screeching like a banshee.

     Fear and rage consuming her voice.

     .....But she can’t bring herself to care.

     Not when the spectral of a once lover and friend molds itself into form above her.

     Her heart is pounding frantically in her hand.

     Stricken.

     Fascinated.

     .....Hungry.....

     She yearns for this.

     This final parting of her former life.

     Yes, she _ is _ the Evil Queen.

     But she’s also Regina.

     Mother.

     Mayor.

     Witch....

     .....And something else....something....unnamable at the moment...

     But she can feel it shifting inside of her.

 

     “REGINA,” comes Emma’s voice from behind--arms up, protecting her face against the torrent of rubble being tossed about. “REGINA, IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

     “YES,” she shouts back over the chaos, suddenly remembering--eyes fixated on the magical spectacle--the blond’s trial of triumph over her old friend. “I THOUGHT YOU KILLED HER?”

     “SO DID I,” the Sheriff replies, coming to a defensive stance beside her--forest eyes wide in trepidation.

_      Then how....? _

     A flash of a memory, from only a few days prior, caresses her mind.

 

_      “Could you bring her back,” Granny wonders, taking in the large skeleton deep within the cavern below Storybrooke curiously. “I know they say dead is dead, but I’ve heard many a tale of dragon’s returning from the grave.” _

_      Regina frowns. “Why would I want to?” _

_      The older wolf shrugs. “We all got a second chance.” Eyeing her haughtily, she adds, “One which some of us don’t really deserve.” _

 

     She shakes her head, giving a rueful chuckle. “I GUESS IT’S TRUE, DRAGONS NEVER REALLY DIE! NOT WHERE MAGIC EXISTS!”

_      I should have known. _

_      Given recent events and all... _

     “GREAT,” the younger woman grouches, hands going to her hair. “WHO IS IT?”

     “BEG YOUR PARDON?”

     “THE DRAGON,” she gestures irritatingly. “IN THE ENCHANTED FOREST, WHO IS IT?”

     A bright fireball suddenly explodes above them, burning the atmosphere with the stench of brimstone and copper.

     Ducking, turning closer towards Emma so they don’t have to continue shouting, she replies with a weighted sigh, “Maleficent.”

     “Shit,” the blond grunts. “Like Sleeping Beauty faerie turned dragon Maleficent?”

     Regina nods. “One and the same.”

     “What now?”

     She draws in a shaky breath, watching as Mal completes the last of her transformation. She’s never witnessed such a wonder--death in to resurrection. It’s devastating like a tornado....but also as breathtakingly beautiful as a streaking sunset.

     It’s raw.

     Animalistic.

     It’s magical.

     Ancient.

     It’s soul sweeping....

     And it’s the harmonious fruition of elemental necromancy.

     “Now, we complete the deal that had been struck.”

 

     The words are hers....but the voice is not.

 

     Heads turning in unison, she and Emma take a synchronized quick breath in as they come face to face.....with the Man in the Mirror.

     “Sydney?”

 

 

     Rumple shakes.

     With fury.

     Heartache.

     Fear.

     Exhaustion.

     The ambulance is thankfully coming his way down the street, avoiding the brewing incursion eating away at the street and sky just meters from them. 

     Miss Lucas protectively paces.

     Eyes as sharp as her large canines.

     He had almost blasted her back when she had approached, unclear of her intent, until she nudged himself and Belle with the nose of her snout--a whine like a plea emanating from deep within her chest. Unwilling to let go of the pressure he was putting on the bullet wound, he allowed the beast to drag them by his suit collar to a safer distance.

     It was humiliating.

     .....And humbling.....

     Even in her wolf form, he could see concern and affection reflecting in her large eyes.

     .........................

_      At what end will it take? _

_      Before I cost her everything? _

_      Is this it? _

_     Is the price of sharing true love her demise? _

_      ......No.... _

_      I can’t let that happen. _

_      I won’t. _

     Looking down into the fading blue orbs of the beautiful woman in his arms, Rumple let’s a tear trickle down his cheek.

     Gives the man he once was a moment to mourn what he’s about to let go of.

     Reaching down, the sounds of tires coming to a screeching halt reaching his ears, he places a tender kiss on the princesses’ forehead.

     “I love you,” he whispers, lips trembling against clammy skin. “I love you so much, Belle.”

     ................

     And then he hands her over.

     Permitting the medical professionals to do what they need to stabilize her for transport to the hospital, her delicate fingers losing their grip and slipping from the folds of his jacket.

    He holds onto that touch, in his memory.

     Storing it away for the rare future occasions where he may feel like his old self.

     .....Then he rises unsteadily to his feet....

     Watching the back doors of the ambulance close shut with a bang before it races off into the distance.

     And then turns, thumbing the wound on his right hand tenderly--pressing and gritting his teeth when blood trickles from the seeping gash.

     He knows this magic.

     Can smell the taint of it exuding from his torn flesh.

     When its wielder's voice unexpectedly drifts to his ringing ears, he lifts his gaze, and sneers malevolently at the once famed Genie of Agrabah.

  
  


     “YOU DID THIS?”

     The accusation is mixed with hurt, surprise, and apprehension.

     All emotions he is use to from his Sovereign.

     Bowing his head, Sydney nods once, then tilts his amber eyes up to hold the whiskey orbs before him. “Yes, my Queen.”

     Emma grimaces at the affection lacing the title, recalling the last time she had seen the newspaper reporter. She had accused Regina of using him because the man was  _ obviously _ mentally unwell and obsessed with her.

     Apparently his fanatical amore wasn’t curse induced.

     “Why,” the older woman demands, confounded, gaze skirting from the ragged looking Jinni to Maleficent who seemed to be held spellbound for a second--her human form silhouetted by her dragon essence.

     “I knew about the deal,” he replies solemnly, shifting his body slightly to glare at Cora standing across the large sinkhole starting to swallow up the street. “I heard about it once, while spying on your mother during her reign of Wonderland.”

     “And you never thought to tell me,” Regina growls, frustration and fury vibrating off of her. 

_      Had she been surrounded by imbeciles the entire time they served her? _

_      Had NO ONE been loyal? _

     “Considering your...complicated relationship with the Forbidden Mountain ruler, I thought it best to keep it to myself.” He shifts his eyes skyward to stare at said creature. “Until now.”

     Emma’s sour expression turns into a slightly confused frown.

_      Complicated? _

_      Relationship? _

_      What does he mean by that? _

     “So what next,” the formidable woman questions, chest constricting with foreboding, heart thumping hard in hand.

_      This is it. _

_      No more answers left. _

_      But one... _

     “Payment,” he says with a slight twirl of his fingers--a plume of grey magic wisping off like smoke rings. “Maleficent kept her end of the bargain. Time for your mother to do the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we are at the final pivot point!
> 
> Wow.
> 
> Does it feel like it came too quickly to anyone else?
> 
> If you have not heard "Monsters" by Ruelle, like do so. Now. I swear that woman sets up most of my scenes with her fantastic music.
> 
> My heart breaks for Rumple. I really did not expect this. None of what has gone down between him and Belle were in my notes or on course for what I wanted...but it's honest and real. :(
> 
> Yeesh! What the hell is the end result of the bargain between Cora and Maleficent? And why did no one tell Regina about it? Is the consequence or payment that extreme?? ;)
> 
> Lol, Emma. I can't help it. The girl is funny...and so out of the loop.


	52. Enter the Dragon pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy week all! I hope you are doing well :).
> 
> This is almost it.
> 
> We're just a chapter or two away from the end of my season 2a reboot of OUAT.
> 
> Thank you all for sharing this journey with me so far. Your reviews and comments make my day, and encourage me onward in my desire to give these characters every opportunity possible to be great. So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
> 
> Now. On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

_ ‘And I'm waiting for the day _

_ I know you've got your part _

_ And I'm waiting for the day _

_ I know you'll have the heart _

 

_ And I'm hoping that you'll say _

_ That you loved me all this time _

_ But it turns out just the same _

_ And you break apart the things I find’ _

 

_ “Hold On” _

By Angus and Julia Stone

  
  


     She is speechless.

     There, like an ancient goddess, hovers Maleficent above her daughter and Regina.

     Bright.

     Ethereal.

     Violent.

     It fills her with a sickening dread--for Emma _ and _ her former stepmother.

     She knows this creature. 

     This witch.

     She knows the relationship she once had with the Evil Queen. She knows the countless years of devastation she wreaked upon the Enchanted Forest until her self induced isolation.

     She knows her power.

     And her lack of mercy.

 

     Then there is  _ (shockingly) _ Sydney Glass--the Man in the Mirror--the Genie of Agrabah.

 

     She knows him as well.

     Vividly remembers the day he arrived at the castle with her father. The way he looked at Regina. The night he disappeared. The morning she found herself grieving over the death of a parent for the second time in her young life.

     The afternoon walk with a Huntsman that lead her to a life of isolation--surviving on banditry.

     And the blind devotion of a living reflection that followed the dawning of a darkening Queen everywhere she went.

 

     Her fingers scratch against the arrow notched on her bow.

     Mind racing.

     Adrenaline pumping.

     Fear gripping her senses.

     There is going to be a point in the next few minutes where she’s going to have to pull back....going to have to sight up a target....going to have to let this prepared shot go.

     .....She’s just not sure yet who the arrows is meant for....

     Who she will be saving besides Emma...

     And whose death will weigh her own heart down at the end of it all. 

  
  


 

     Cora looks down at her shaking hands.

     Feeling her magic waning.

     Knowing she is out of options.

     And time.

     No more deals to be made.

     No more allies to align with.

     No more words to sway her daughter her way.

     .................

_      So this is it. _

_      All I have accomplished...all I have dreamed, has been for not. _

_      ................ _

_      Foolish girl _ . She shakes her head at herself. _ Foolish, foolish girl. _

_      ................ _

     She should have never come here.

     Should have let things be.

     Should have accepted her loss and embraced her gains.

     ................

     But Regina is all the family she has left.

     Her and young Henry.

     And she had...

     Well.

     It doesn’t matter what she wants now.

 

     With a ragged breath, she raises her chin, and faces her impending downfall.

     She is a Queen, after all.

     Not a cowardly Miller’s daughter too humiliated to face the consequences of her choices.

     ....One of hearts....

     With her own, and her daughter’s, on a thin--frail--line.

  
  


 

     Emma’s breathing is erratic--heartbeat and blood pressure pounding with panic, trepidation.

_      What’s going to happen? _

_      What exactly is Cora’s debt to Maleficent? _

_      What price will her and Regina pay to complete it? _

_      .....What will happen if neither of them....survive?..... _

 

     She can’t let that happen.

 

     Whatever the repercussions.....

 

     Regina MUST come out of this alive.

     She’s Henry’s _ mother. _

     .....And.....something to her she can’t quite define....

     But it’s there.

     It matters.

     And that’s enough for her in this moment.

 

     So she does what she’s found herself habitually doing since day one.

     She raises her hand....

     And places it on the older woman’s back.

     Reassuring them both that she’s not going anywhere.

     No matter what.

  
  


     Regina shudders at the touch.

     Surprised...yet not...

     At Emma’s physical declaration of solidarity.

_      Will there come a day when I stop being so shocked by her risky nature? _

     Pulling in a stuttering breath, she closes her eyes for a second, letting her mind take a spiraling walk along all the memories she cherishes.

     Loving Daniel.

     Riding Rocinante.

     Being comforted by her father.

     Enacting the curse.

     Holding Henry.

     His first smile.

     Laugh.

     Step.

     Words.

     Tooth.

     Sickness.

     Heartache.

     .....And love....

     She grips on to it.

     Clinging like he had when his little fists found her shirt, his cheek nestling into the crook of her neck, and the sweetest little baby sigh she had ever heard escaping his tiny lips.

     She burrows into that memory as tightly as he had....

     And makes an effort to believe.

     With every fiber of her being.

     That whatever may befall in the next few minutes.

     She WILL come out the other side.

     And she won’t be doing it alone.

 

*****

 

     David is driving as fast as he can back into town without tossing the dwarves resting in the bed of his truck out by taking a turn too sharp or hitting a bump too fast while granny gives him a play by play of everything going down in the middle of main street over his phone--her voice a mix of belied worry and wonder.

_      Maleficent! _

_      Of all the people... _

     He never expected to encounter her again.

     Not after planting that egg shaped container inside the dragon like Rumplestiltskin had asked.

_      Was this his fault? _

_      Did that deal bring her about? _

     His sword rests beside him as the memory flutters across his mind, making his pulse jump, filling him with that familiar rush he first experienced when he had beheaded his only other dragon that was targeting Midas’ Kingdom.

     He was tingling from the tips of his toes to the fine hairs on the back of his neck.

     Warmth coursing through his veins.

     Uttering soft words like,  _ strong, brave, true.  _

     It has always been in these instances that he believes he is capable of anything. That he is more than a shepherd. More than a false prince or pawn in King George’s old court. More than a man wanting to do the right thing.

     He’s a protector.

     A hero.

     A King.

     .....Whose family needs him.....

     ..................................

     Seeing a glimpse of Maleficent above the tree-line approaching in the distance, he shouts, “Hold on tight,” through his open back window, and presses his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

     Accelerating.

     Encouraging his old truck to pick up its pace before it’s too late.

 

*****

 

     Ruby resists the urge to chase after the disappearing ambulance.

     There is nothing more she can do for Belle right now.

     Panting, overwhelmed, she turns back to find Rumpelstiltskin eyeing someone that looks a lot like Sydney Glass. There is unrestrained dark magic coming off of him in waves, adding to the already charged--burning--air.

     She shifts a little to take in the look on his face...

     And her hackles raise at the pure malice distorting his features.

_      Oh no.... _

_      Great! _

_      Just fucking great! _

     Not only are they in the middle of the biggest, deadliest, magical face off ever to exist....but now he’s gone full on Dark One, and she  _ knows _ she isn’t strong enough to take him!

_      Gods be damned! _

     Glancing up, she takes in Maleficent warily, and starts backing away slowly.

     She has no intentions of leaving Emma and Regina to face this all alone.

     But she needs to get to the other side of the growing sinkhole the Dragon burst her way out of so she can be of better use.

     Hearing an unexpected rising rumble, she looks back the direction the ambulance had gone, just in time to spot David’s truck barreling towards them.

_      Oh thank the gods! _

 

*****

 

     Everything seems to happen all at once for those caught in the midst of this wild foray.

     Eyes opening, back straightening, Regina tilts her head back and stares at her former lover as Sydney’s magical bindings weave themselves away.

     Emma, her hand still on her back, begins to shift into a crouching position--shouting her name, attempting to push her down with her.

     But she’s locked into place.

     Spellbound.

     While Maleficent screeches.....

     And descends.

 

 

     Cora is also unable to move as well.

     Not of her own free will anyway.

     For one more second she remains a separated observer.

     .....Then a wave of smoke grips her by her own magical essence, and deposits her opposite of her daughter just a body’s width apart--Sydney to her left, Emma Swan trying to protect Regina next to him.....

     The air is literally crackling all around them.

     The blonde goddess approaching.

     Discharges of chaotic magic picking and nipping at their skin. Stirring their own magia into a frenzy. Preparing them for the final stage of the blood spawned deal her and Maleficent had made.

     Lifting her own eyes skyward, she’s unable to think or do anything, but breath in the last remaining seconds before the Dragon’s arrival.

 

 

     Rumple wants to intervene.

     To take this moment of triumph away from the old genie.

     To debase him.

     Remove him from the Queen’s pleasantries.

     .....But he knows better than to interrupt a magical deal like this.

      _No, no, no._

     Rumplestiltskin is no fool.

     He’ll wait.

    _Yes, yes, yes._

     He’ll wait and bide his time.

     And then...when the moment is right....he’ll take that bastard mirror’s curved dagger....

     And he’ll gut him like a fish.

     Spilling his innards in front of his famed Queen.

     Oh yes.

     I _will, I will, I will!_

  
  


 

     Snow is keeping herself in check by focusing on her breathing while watching Maleficent reach the street where the three magical users and her daughter stand.

_      In through the nose, out through the mouth. _

_      In through the nose, out through the mouth. _

_      In through the nose, out through the mouth...... _

     Her gut is churning.

     All of Storybrooke is practically vibrating with magical waves.

     Every. Single. Second. Seems to be going by ten times slower....

     As if time itself is coming to an absolute stand still.

_      In through the nose, out through the mouth. _

_      In through the nose, out through the mouth. _

_      In through the nose, out through the...... _

_      .....Emma....... _

  
  


 

     You can spend an entire lifetime bracing yourself for the moment a magical creature falls upon you.

     But you’ll never get it right. You’ll never be prepared, and you won’t know what it feels like to face such a haunting death....Until you’re in the moment.

     And she’s right.

     In front.

     Of you.

     ..................

     The ground shakes.

     Tendrils of red, white, purple and gold zipping everywhere like over illuminated insects.

     This woman.

     This ancient.

     Magical.

     Dragon.

     Stares, with unseeing eyes, between your faces.

     She’s tall.

     Curved.

     But willowy all the same.

     Her hair shines like bright living strands of straw. The white threads of cloth encasing her body shimmer as if they are flowing with water....Or energy. Her sharp feminine features are expressionless...

     But they capture Emma anyway.

     Like Regina and her mother, she can’t move.

     Here, half bent, hand on the Evil Queen’s back--heat passing between them like a hot wire--she stares on.

     Barely breathing.

     Completely unsure of the older woman’s next step.

 

     Which occurs like a delayed frame by frame reel.

     Hand coming up.

     Long delicate fingers reaching out.

     Maleficent wraps her digits around Regina’s heart--lifting it from the other woman’s grasp as the brunette lowers her head to catch her blank gaze.

     Taking her possession, the witch pivots to her left--blue diamond eyes sweeping past Emma and Sydney, to land on the Miller’s daughter.

     With each crawling, echoing, heartbeat--she lifts and turns the younger magical woman’s organ into position.

     Her face perfectly align with Cora’s.

     And then....

     Thrusts it forward....

     Shoving it brutally into the older woman’s chest....

     Creating a shockwave of exploding magic that delivers a roaring sonic boom to all ears within the vicinity as the Queen of Hearts screams in agony.

     ...............

     Nothing moves for a beat.

     Not the debris littering the ground.

     Not the hairs on their heads.

     Not even the glittering shards of magic consuming the air.

     Nothing.

     Moves.

     .............. 

     ..............

     Then.

     Like a single breath being expelled....

     She violently retracts her hand.

     Pulling the heart back out....

     With another attached.

     ....And just like that.....

     Time resumes.

  
  


 

     Gasping.

     Visibly trembling hands going to her chest.

     Cora watches with wet--terrified--eyes, as Maleficent pries the two hearts apart.

     The one in her left, so brittle and black, it resembles a clump of smoldering coal.

     The one in her right, pulsing like an ember--ribbons of gold shooting through it, thumps hard and fast and full of....of....

     Life.

     ..............

     “Cor ad cor no ultra.” The Dragon’s rich voice resonates outward like a song. Strong. Vibrant. Deep.

     She raises the two hearts.

     Holding them towards her face.

_      No more heart to heart.... _

     ...............

     Then she moves her head in Cora’s direction...

     While she slowly reaches out with her right hand to place that heart in Regina’s palm...

     Before tilting her head back slowly....

     Her vacant stare locking onto her own...

     And opening her mouth unnaturally wide.

     “Vestras cor donum meus core, vita mea, vi.”

     ...................

_      Your heart is a gift to my core, my life force... _

     She never thought this day would come.

     She had always truly believed she would outlive this old being.

_      Foolish, foolish girl... _

     ....................

     She can’t watch.

     She.

     Just.

     Can’t.

     ...............

     Prying her eyes away, she focuses on her daughter instead.

     Her child.

     Her beautiful, talented, girl.

     Her last living family.

     .....And does something she isn’t sure she’s done in a very....

     Very.  

     Long time.

     ....She smiles at her.

     Genuinely.

     As wide as her mouth will stretch.

     She smiles.

     And lifts her chin as Regina’s own matching brown eyes dart from Maleficent to her in awakening horror.

     With fingers sliding off that ugly organ between them.

     Letting it descend into that wide Dragon mouth.

     She parts her teeth and says....

     With every last living beat she has....

     “I love you, Regina. I always have. I always will.”

 

     .................................

 

     It’s over before anyone realizes it.

 

     In the time it takes for the deal to be complete, Maleficent has devoured the second heart.....

     And Cora is collapsing to the ground among Regina’s cry of “Mother!”

  
  


     Sydney steps back.

     Waking the blonde woman, and breaking the magical haze around them, with a banging clap.

     Frowning, the said creature also steps out of the way, blinking as she becomes aware of the lover kneeling before her--being supported by a familiar person--while lifting the Queen of Heart’s lifeless body into her arms.

     “Regina,” she rasps questioningly, a hand going to her chest, pain etching itself across her face.

_      What have I done? _

 

 

     The once Evil Queen--tears trickling down her cheeks--shakes her head, unable to look up at the woman she use to call friend. Her fingers shake as she trails them along her mother’s temples. Smoothing out the wrinkles time has carved into the creases of her eyes. 

     It’s Daniel all over again.

     It’s shades of hay and twilight and heartache and sorrow.

     It’s the smell of magic in the air.

     The taste of salt on her lips.

     The chill in her bones.

     .....The splintering of her mind, just one fraction more.....

     “Oh mother,” she sobs, palm going to a pulse point in a last ditch hope even though she  _ knows _ the truth. She witnessed it herself. “What did you do?”

_      Why are you leaving me this way? _

  
  


 

     “A heart for a heart,” Sydney answers her softly.

     His face gloomy.

     His eyes tormented.

     “She traded her own life force in exchange for being bound to yours,” he explained, looking down upon her. “She believed she would never have to pay the debt, to give her heart up to Maleficent, because she believed in her own power. In  _ you _ .” He sighs, shoulders bracing. “But she was wrong. Time was up. The deal had to be complete.”

  
  


 

     Emma’s stormy gaze darts to the faces hovering above her and Regina.

     To the Man in the Mirror who seems conflicted about the brunette’s reaction to her mother’s demise right in front of her.

_      Fucking lunatic. _

     To the dragon woman who appears solemn and torn--unsure what she’s to do next after what she’s just done.

_      Oh Gods.... _

     This is way worse than her imagination envisioned.

     Way.

     Way.

     Worse.

     Regina’s eyes, so red and overflowing with tears, pierce at her heart, gripping her with sympathetic loss. Her fingers tighten, digging into the fabric of the older woman’s blouse where her hand sits on her back. She leans in until they are touching. Knee to knee, heads just inches apart.

     She doesn’t say a word.

     She wants to.

     She wants to pull this cutting devastation away with nonsensical syllables that offer comfort and ease....

     But there is nothing in the human language, that she has ever experienced, that can sooth tragedies like this.

     So she sits here.

     Against the mother of her son.

     And holds on.

  
  


 

     David stands with the dwarves and Ruby in front of his haphazardly parked truck.

     Stiff.

     Sword in hand.

     Useless.

     He sees his wife atop Gold’s shop. An arrow notched. Her body rigid. Her entire focus on the scene before them.

     Rumplestiltskin himself stands hunched.

     Like a statue.

     Staring on.

     Waiting......

  
  


 

     Regina doesn’t know how much time has passed before she notices Emma nestled closely beside her. Face a mixture of sorrow and understanding. Sydney shifts just a foot away, hands clasped in front of him, haggard features anticipating her next move.

     Sniffling.

     Laying her mother’s warm body gently against the ground.

     She looks up at Maleficent who meets her hard gaze head on.

     She wants to scream at her.

     To demand she undo what has occurred.

     To take back the deal.

     To offer her an alternative.

     Something.

     Anything!

     Other than this....

     .............

     But her eyes flutter to her mother fleetingly, and her shoulders sag wearily.

     .....Because there is nothing any of them can do.

     Cora made a deal.

     A choice.

     Just as Sydney said.

     She put both their lives on the line....and she paid her due.

_      ‘All magic comes with a price, dearie.’ _

     It was the very first lessoned she ever learned.

     At the hands of the woman before her, no less.

     By a violent smack to the face.....

     That left her permanently scarred.

     ...........................

     “Cora may have loved you.” Sydney’s voice startles her, drawing her and Emma’s attention. “But she never showed it properly.” He lifts his head slightly, eerily like the first time he had been a real man in front of her. “Not like I do.”

     “Oh Gods,” the blonde beside her groans, exasperation and disgust tinting her utterance.

     She wets her dry lips.

     Tears still hot on her skin.

     “You did this,” she croaks, eyes shifting to note the destruction surround them, “to what...prove your l-...devotion to me?”

     “Love,” he corrects firmly. “Not devotion. Love, Regina.” He shakes his head. “Just like always.”

_      .....Like always?..... _

     A sneer pulls at her upper lip.

     Her fingers curling into tight fists.

     Shooting to her feet, Emma rising quickly to stand aside her, she glares at the genie who waltzed into her life and has refused to leave ever since.

     “Love? What do YOU know about love,” she growls. “All you have ever done is hound me, and follow me around doing my bidding like a weak little puppy in need of attention! LOVE?” She cackles, voice growing hysterical in pitch. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT LOVE!”

     She’s panting.

     Nostrils flaring.

     Her heart still in her hand.

     Lifting it, with a jagged gesture, she snarls at Sydney. “I would NEVER love a worthless, pathetic little man like you! NEVER!”

     Curling it inward.

     Knowing it is going to hurt.

     So.....

     Fucking.....

     Much......

     She lets the misery inside of her pour out her pores while she lifts her now fragile organ, and  _ shoves  _ it back into her own chest, crying out a mournful wail as everything comes crashing harshly through her system.

_      I’m so sorry, mother! I’m so sorry! _

     .................

     ...........

     She’s not sure whose arms she collapses into.

     It smells like Emma’s.

     Her magic drifting around them like an effervescent cloud.

     For the briefest of seconds, she swears she feels another presence resting a timid--tender--hand on her back.

     But it’s gone just as quickly.

     .................

     She hears Sydney attempt to move forward.

     Can predict, even with her face hidden between skin and warm leather, that he’s opening his mouth to say something else to her.

     ....However.....

 

     A sounds plucks at her ears.

 

     One she hasn’t heard in quite some time......

 

     It disturbs her.

     Putting her instantly on alert.

     Reflexes tensing, she snaps her head up.

 

     Just in time to watch Rumpelstiltskin apparate behind the genie.

     Curved dagger in hand.

     Rage contorting his face....

     And driving said weapon right through the unsuspecting man’s back.

 

     Piercing his human heart.

 

     In the same exact moment an arrow whizzes through the air.

 

     Striking the Dark One with impacting force into his upper left shoulder.

     Stumbling him back.

     Dazing....

     And wounding him...

 

     “NO,” Emma shouts, distressed, pushing her towards Maleficent while reaching forward to catch a sagging Sydney.  Her fierce gaze moves from the dying man in her grasp to the backpedaling shopkeep--torn--enraged.

     ..................

     But there is nothing for her to do.

 

     For in the next instance, with a parting--shell shocked gaze--Rumplestiltskin vanishes in a murky cloud of smoke, leaving them all speechless in his mind blowing wake.

 

     Heart hammering away inside of her....

     Regina follows Emma’s eyes as they shift from Sydney who keeps trying to speak, but can’t find his voice, to the rooftop of the Imp’s shop.....where she finds Snow White slowly lowering her bow.

     Expression grim.  

     Even as their gazes meet.

     And hold.

 

 

     Killian Jones sighs.

     Head rolling away from the fading violence.

     The Dark One has claimed another in his cowardly escape.

     The vile Queen of Hearts is dead.

     As is a mad Man from a Mirror land.

     The Evil Queen is broken in the arms of a once lover, as her former tormentors watch on...and a Savior holds two bodies before her....not much of a savior at all.

_      .....Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay.... _

_      The worst is death.... _

_      And death will have his day.... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.
> 
> Well....that was....rough. :( I'm sorry. I loved Cora too. I WISH I could have made her stay...but in the end she just can't help Regina grow, not in the ways I want her to. I apologize for her loss.
> 
> Yeesh. Sydney...had to go as well. He has served his purpose. He has given his Queen a new stepping stone towards the life she desires by closing the doors (mostly) on her old one. This isn't about forgetting the Evil Queen, but in offering her opportunities and strength she will need later on. Goodbye Man in the Mirror. Your service has been fulfilled.
> 
> I had SO MUCH planned for Rumple. I really did...but NONE of it was this. The man truly is crazy. That darkness inside of him starts twisting things around, and before you know it, he's killing off a genie and taking an arrow before escaping a horrific scene. What the fuck man?!.......Belle's not gonna like this......Not. One. Bit.
> 
> I think there is nothing more realistic than acknowledging, no matter how brave, bold, or righteous you are, sometimes the heroes fail. That's just life. That's just a truth that is bitter and unkind.
> 
> Regina. Emma. Maleficent....I'm sorry. You are strong women. You will survive this. You will grow from this. You will be more, than you ever see yourself as. Just wait and see. I promise.
> 
> Oddly enough (or perhaps not) I found Killian Jones the most poetic observer of all. Who better than a three hundred year old broken hearted lover to understand the torment and devastation reaped upon them all? And yes, his last thoughts are from Shakespeare--Richard II to be exact.


	53. Stones in the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy week all! I hope you are well :).
> 
> Let's get some closure, hmm?
> 
> On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

_'In this world there's a whole lot of sorrow_   
_In this world there's a whole lot of shame_   
_In this world there's a whole lot of sorrow_   
_And a whole lot of ground to gain'_

 

_"Why Walk When You Can Fly"_

_By Mary Chapin Carpenter_

 

     Have you ever seen a house burn first hand?

     Wood and cement crumbling under licking heat. The smell of fire in the air. Memories being ruined by smoke and ash. Faces streaked with tear stains and heartache. 

     Or witness up close the tragedy of lives forgotten?

     The old man down the street no one stops to talk to who dies alone in his sleep. The addict in the alleyway taking her last breath. The suicidal war vet that can’t escape their own mind until they find a permanent end.

     Emma has.

     She’s been the foster child watching a family’s home turn to smoldering timber just feet away on a frigid January night. She’s found the body of more than one misfortunate soul between dank dark brick walls while hunting down scumbags skipping bail. She’s been a gym rat talking to the fellow lost and wandering in the wee hours of morning looking for human contact, only to have them disappear for a week, and then show up on the county coroner's slab.

     She knows tragedy.

     Not just as a witness, but personally.

     She knows loss.

     She knows suffering.

     It’s why she struggles to let people in. To trust them. To care. To endure, as they do, the devastations that come with life.

     But in this small town

     Surrounded by these people who fight endlessly just for a shred of happiness...

     She can’t help but feel.

 

     Closing the doors on an ambulance hauling Captain Hook and Ruby (who agreed to keep an eye on him) off, she turns towards her parents in the distance--Henry at their side--watching, worrying, over Regina.

     The brunette and Maleficent haven’t moved from where Cora and Sydney lay just feet away. Standing shoulder to shoulder, pained expressions mirroring each other’s faces, not a single word having passed between them since Rumplestiltskin’s deadly strike and disappearance. But the few shared looks and echoing stances tell her they are use to communicating on a nonverbal level.

     Intimately, and personally so.

     Much in the way her and Regina have interacted over the past year.

 

     She’s not sure how to feel about that at the moment. Or at all, really. What business is it of hers to begin with?

 

     Sighing, she slowly makes her way over to her family, heart as heavy and sore as her body. The entire street surrounding them has been blocked off, keeping traffic from coming close to the multiple crime scenes she has yet to process, and the massive sinkhole still picking away at fragile asphalt. But she needs a moment with the ones she loves. She needs a firm squeeze to her shoulder, an affection trailing of fingers on her back, a warm small body leaning into her own.

     She needs them to ground her, to remind her, that she’s not alone.

     Just this once.

     “What now,” Henry asks, voice small and shaky.

     She grimaces, wishing the kid would have listened to her when she ordered him back to the diner the minute he had come barreling down the street towards them after Gold’s vanishing.

     But he refused to go.

     Begging her with tears and a trembling chin to let him stay. To let him be with his mom.  _ ‘She’s hurting! She needs me! I’m her son!’ _

_      Ouch.   _

     Regina, however, never heard a word.

     She hasn’t acknowledged anyone in over an hour. 

_      Is it shock? _

_      Grief? _

_      Magic? _

_      All the above? _

     “Now,” she sighs again, rubbing his shoulders gently, “you head back to the apartment with David and Snow.” His mouth opens to protest, brow pinching in surging anger, but she crouches and meets his matching forest gaze. “Your mom needs some time to process everything, Henry. I promise,” she runs her fingers up into his hair lightly, “I won’t leave her alone. And if I can help it, I’ll bring you to her, or her to the apartment--which ever she’ll agree to--as soon as possible.” She brushes at his wet cheek gently, wiping a stray tear away. “Just trust me on this, ok?”

_      Please? _

     He bites down hard on his lower lip, thinking, evaluating, judging.

     Before eventually giving her a jerky nod in agreement.

_      Good boy. _

     Offering him a tender smile, she stands and shares a look with her parents that screams  _ ‘stay safe, keep in touch’ _ in a firm glance. Snow dips her head in silent understanding, David’s eyes flickering to Regina’s back briefly with a matching statement of  _ ‘you do the same’ _ . 

     Nodding as well, giving Henry a parting hug, she then turns--drawing in a shaky breath--and approaches the remaining pair as they walk away.

 

*********

 

     The air is still vibrating with magic.

     Thick and heavy.

     Scented with so many tendrils from too many users that Regina’s stomach hasn’t stopped rolling since Rumple’s shocking outburst. She’s beyond being on edge. If anything, she feels fried--nerve endings burnt numb, body and mind completely exhausted. It’s how--she swears--Emma Swan is able to startle her with her sudden appearance to her right.

     “Hey.”

     The words are soft, the look on the young woman’s face matching her own weary state. A hand comes to rest lightly on her bicep, and everything tingles.

     She swallows, throat too tight to respond.

     But Emma’s not looking at her anyways.

     Stormy green eyes are focused downward to the bodies resting at her feet. Brows drawn in thought. Jaw tensing. Shoulders stiffening.

     The hoarse shout from the Sheriff as Sydney had collapsed echoes in her mind, and she shifts her own gaze back to his blood stained chest.

     “He was a Genie from Agrabah,” she begins to unreasonably explain--voice rough, words scratchy.. “He came to me by way of the King who had freed him from the confinements of his lamp.” She wets her dry lips, sniffling. “He was...enamored with me instantly.” Her tone lowers, turning into a muttering whisper. “But I just used him. I turned his affection for me into a weapon, convinced him to kill the King, and once it was all done I tried to send him off.” She shakes her head, a tear escaping her red eyes. “He refused to go though. Instead, he used the last wish he had left to forever be with me.” A self deprecating chuckle escapes her before she can stop it. “And now?” She sighs, breath hitching. “Now he’s dead. All because he thought he could still win my love over, after  _ everything _ , only to forget that in this land...he was human.”

     Silence falls between herself and the similar blonds on either side.

     The impact of the last forty plus years of her choices sink into her skin like biting fire ants. A frown drags her features down, and her head hangs low enough her chin rests centimeters from her chest.

_      What a pointless, pointless...waste. _

_     All for what? _

_      Victory? _

_      Love? _

     Sighing, glancing at the mother of her son, she realizes she hasn’t had the chance to think beyond Sydney and her mother until now. “Where is Henry,” she queries, gaze darting about, looking for the one person--the one comfort--that makes all of this tolerable.

     “I sent him off to the apartment with David and Snow,” Emma replies, lifting her eyes, meeting her questioning stare nervously. “I hope you don’t mind. I just..” She shrugs and sweeps her head in a semi circle around them.

     Reminding her of the destruction. The Death. The Blood.

     She nods slowly.

     Understanding, and appreciating, the younger woman’s forethought.

     “Right.” She draws in a shaky breath, averting her gaze. “Go do your job then, Savior,” she requests in a plea. “So I can take care of...,” she gestures to the lives at her feet she has destroyed, “and then we can...tend to o-our son.”

_      Ours? _

     That had been an accidental hiccup. She had meant to say  _ hers _ .

     But Emma squeezes her arm--the now constant tingles flaring--and she can’t move her tongue to take it back.  _ Ours? Since when was Henry, HER Henry...theirs? _

     “Yell if you need anything,” the blond replies before hesitantly departing.

     Giving Regina the unrequested space she needs.

_      Ours... _

 

*********

 

     “What a nightmare,” Blue sighs, clasping her hands where she stands with Geppetto outside of Granny’s watching the Evil Queen and Emma Swan talk while...the  _ other _ she refuses to even think of, stares on. “It seems, even in this land, Regina brings about a black plague.”

     “I believe the Dark One is responsible for all of this,” the woodcutter beside her remarks. “Him and the Miller’s Daughter.”

     She inclines her head in acknowledgment, but her jaw tightens just a little. “Perhaps. But neither would be here--none of us would be--if not for her Majesty.”

_      If not for her blackened heart. _

     “Yes,” the older man agrees, “but if anything she said is true,” he motions towards the bodies lying upon the street of Storybrooke, “then she is as much a victim as the rest of us. No good comes from people who put power above love.”

     Eyes narrowing, Reul Ghorm glances warningly at the villager as she turns to leave, done with this particular conversation. “Do not be deceived by tears, Geppetto. We all have our hardships. Not all of us turn to darkness to overcome them. Those that do, deserve the price required in payment.”

 

*********

 

     “Savior?” Maleficent raises a brow, curiously watching the other woman walk away, faintly recalling the last time they had met. “You share a child with your mortal enemy’s daughter?”

     Regina’s spine stiffens, and she shakes her head, a wry smile slipping across her lips before it’s quickly wiped away.

     “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, realizing--no matter how surprising the revelation--now is not the time to address such a thing. Blue eyes darting to her once lover’s face, she repeats more sincerely, “Truly, Regina, I’m sorry. For everything.”

     The barely aged brunette struggles to keep her composure before she responds gravely, “Shouldn’t I be the one apologizing? Dark curse, cavern cage, death by sword and what all else?”

     She tilts her head in consideration.

     In fairness, she had been manipulated, and attacked, then locked away for decades in a new realm before that damnable blonde appeared and sent her to the inbetween.

_      But...after what just transpired.... _

     She sighs. “I believe we can agree to call it an even draw on past misdeeds. Don’t you think?” Nodding towards the former Djinn. “Your Man in the Mirror aside, the deal I struck with...Cora, would have come to completion one way or another. What’s done, is done.”

_      Ashes to ashes and all that. _

     The young witch worries her fingers, an old nervous habit apparently still with her--still a tell that she’s about to ask or do something that makes her anxious. In this moment, since her _ very  _ recent return, she’s reminded of the woman she had once mentored, long before the Evil Queen was born.

     Her reformed heart aches at distant memories.

_      Oh my dark beauty, if only... _

     “Did you know?” The question is timid, merely a whisper, but she hears the depths of emotion and unspoken words behind it.

_      Did I know when you came to me? _

_      When I touched you? _

_      Held you? _

     “Not until you started mastering your magic,” she replies honestly, long fingers curling into tight fists at her side. “Your mother was one of hundreds who sought me out. You were not even named when I bound your hearts.” The brunette flinches, and regret curls in her gut. “It wouldn’t have mattered though,” she adds, anticipating the next enquiry. “My trade had been with Cora, not you. The outcome, at that time, was inconsequential to me.”

     Harsh? Yes. but she’s not one to hide from her decisions--good or bad.

_      Life is a brittle thing. No point in wasting time with being willfully ignorant. _

     Regina’s chin rises--her whole body seeming to align with it--and the girl she had cared for fades behind the mask of a villain who knows how to protect herself from the darkest of wolves in sheep’s clothing.

     Sighing again, shoulders sagging, she lifts her eyes from the lingering death sniffing at her feet, and starts taking in the world that she was brought to. Seeing much she doesn’t understand, she still feels an odd kind of fascination with it, even in such a state of tragedy.

 

*********

 

     Neal doesn’t know how long he’s been running.

     Barely out of the large open area of the cavern, he had heard rocks collapsing behind him, and fear had driven him deep into the depths of a cave system that--at some intersects--had required him to crawl because of how narrow they were. Right now, he’s trudging through some dense luminescent foliage that reminds him of points in his life he’d rather continue to forget. He can hear the faint distant sound of water, and he keeps getting a breeze every now and then, solidifying his hope that there is a way out of this underworld.

     Three stiff fingers on his swollen right hand twitch, and he winces, knowing the deep wound center of palm is likely infected. 

_      Fucking magical psychopaths. _

_      Fifteen years! _

_      Fifteen, fucking, years! _

     That’s all the longer he’s been in this realm.

     All the time he’s had to adjust to a life without magic, murder, mayhem, and loss. Time spent on the street, wheelin’ and dealin’ and getting by stealing whatever he’s needed, making himself feel more free and safe than he’s ever truly been.

     When Emma came along, he thought finally, FINALLY, he’s found his chance at making a real happy ending.

     Then there is August...

     And he’s been reminded ever since that life has never been kind to him. That he doesn’t share any graces with the old Gods. Whether it’s because he is the son of the Dark One, or because fate just has it out for his family all together, he’s never been sure.

     But if he’s absolute about anything...it’s that he’s royally fucked no matter what he tries to do.

_      Almost like a curse... _

     Passing by another odd little cluster of trees with fruit he doesn’t even dare try to touch, he catches a glimpse of light twinkling up an incline meters away. Stopping, squinting, he studies it for a minute, feeling a familiar rush of déjà vu, before firmly telling himself he’s in  _ this _ realm and not THAT one. 

_      You’re good. No lost boys here. No demented fairies to hide from. _

_      Breath, just breath. _

     Drawing in a shaky breath, rubbing at his face to keep himself alert, he takes a few stumbling steps forward, and confirms what he is seeing is real. There, up a small rocky pathway, is a jagged open mouth cave--the sound of running water carrying in from it--and the reflecting light revealing the moon and stars just outside this twisted subterrane.

_      Finally! _

 

*********

 

     Walking back to the convent, unnerved and needing to double check her progress in the workshop, Reul Ghorm suddenly smells something unexpected flutter across her nose. Pausing mid-step, sharp eyes cautiously search the tree-line off the nearby cemetery. 

_      Is he here? _

_      Why would he be? _

     Twitching, aware of her lack of defense, she decides to backtrack and take a longer route home. She’s in no mood for a confrontation with an unhinged Rumplestiltskin.

_      Foolish mistakes cost everything. _

     But, as she pivots to take a side street, she hears a faint voice calling in the distance. One, so disturbingly familiar, that her heart constricts in fear for a beat, before it begins to pound anxiously as her entire body spins quickly right back around.

_      No. It can’t be. _

     Eyes wide, she strides toward the forest, ears straining for the sound. When it echoes again--louder and more desperate--she pushes through the moonlit wild, tripping annoyingly over logs and swiping aside dense bushes until she abruptly finds herself half a mile deep on the edge of a ravene.

     “Help! C-can anyone hear me? HELP!”

     The man shouting below staggers away from a rushing stream, magic and emotions spilling off him like smoke from an out of control forest fire.

     “By the Gods,” she gasps, shaking her head in utter shock

_      How? _

_      How was he here? _

     “B-baelfire,” she shouts, voice wavering with uncertainty.

_      It isn’t possible. _

_      It shouldn’t BE possible! _

     But...the man suddenly stops, his entire body going rigid, and then lifts his head up in her general direction.

     “B-blue,” he questions warily.

     She wets her lips, chest rising and falling with growing panic.

     “Y-yes,” she replies, trying to calm herself. “S-stay right where you are! I-I’ll come and get you!”

     He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. He just kind of slumps, like he’s defeated, and she feels her heart squeeze in apprehension.

_      Oh Baelfire. What have you done? _

 

*********

 

     Ruby paces the hallway outside two hospital rooms as she listens to the voice on the other end of her phone. “Yeah, I’ll call as soon as I know more,” she agrees, body tight, tone short, but she knows the other woman isn’t judging her for it. “Thanks, Em. I appreciate it.”

     Hanging up and slipping the device into her back pocket, she runs long fingers through her hair, trying to shake off her anger and anxiety. No doubt it’s coming off her in waves, and she doesn’t want the occupant of the room she’s come to a stop in front of to sense her distress.

     Even if said person is currently not awake.

    Taking a deep steadying breath, she pushes the door gently open, peering inside to be sure no nurses are lingering, before slipping in and closing the noise of the rest of the hospital out. The room is partially lit, most of the lighting coming from a distant dimmed lamp to help the bed ridden patient rest easier. The sound of soft but steady beeps ease her emotions slightly, but as she comes around the bed to get a good look at the tubes and bandages attached to the small woman’s chest, she feels tears well to the surface.

     “Oh Gods, Belle,” she chokes out quietly, reaching a trembling hand forward to rest on the pale one lying limp by the mattress railing. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

_      How could she have let this happen? _

_      Why didn’t she walk her back to Gold’s shop? _

_      Why did she ever leave her with the man in the first place? _

_      What good is true love if it’s only going to get you killed? _

     Sniffling, pulling a nearby chair close so she can sit, she grasps the hand beneath hers tightly and hangs her head--letting her tears fall.

     Hook’s going to pay for this.

     She has no doubt, with the way he stinks of gunpowder and the flintlock pistol that was nestled into his belt, that he’s responsible. That the bastard’s the one who shot this woman that she cares for more than she should.

     Emma wasn’t surprised by her findings. If anything, she seems as remorseful and guilt ridden as she feels. 

     But how could they have known?

     Who would have predicted that Killian Jones was so vile of a man that he would try to kill an innocent just to settle a score with Rumplestiltskin?

     “Some heroes we are,” she mutters disparagingly with a sniff.

_      What good am I, if I can’t protect her? _

 

*********

 

     They can’t stop looking at each other, one conversation after another passing between them in silent gazes as they sit at the island of her apartment.

_      ‘How did we get to this, Snow?’ _

_      ‘Is this how we lose, David? Have we already lost?’ _

_      ‘Were we even fighting? Or did we just believe that we were?’ _

     They are unable to bring themselves to speak these words aloud, afraid Henry--who is trying to rest on the couch--will over hear them. Locking themselves into a room to talk isn’t an option, too afraid Gold is going to pop in out of nowhere and attack at any moment. Allowing Henry out of sight even for a minute isn’t a consideration either. The acknowledgement of what he’s just witnessed burns miserably into their hearts.  

     They have failed.

     In so many Gods awful ways.

     They have come up far, far short of being heroes...and parents.

_      ‘We let our daughter down. We let our grandson down. We’ve failed our family.’ _

_      ‘Maybe...maybe this is our price. For the choices we made.’ _

     Shoulders and souls heavy, the Charming pair jump when the door to the apartment suddenly clicks open. To their relief, Emma and--uncomfortably--Regina (but worryingly minus Maleficent) enter with long exhausted faces.

     At the concern flickering across her own, Emma raises a hand and says, “Don’t worry, Dragon lady has her own place to stay for the moment.”

     When she arches a brow quizzically, Regina adds in a clipped tone, “She’s at my house, sealed in with magic.”  

     Sighing, body sagging wearily, Snow gets up from her stool and moves over to start a fresh batch of tea and coffee. She’s not sure who will drink what, but having something to do, having options to offer, makes her feel productive at least.

     Henry stirs with the sound of his mother’s voice, and Snow has to resist the new flush of tears that threaten to spill over by the way mother and son come instantly together for a mutually reassuring--crushing--hug.

_      Love, without a doubt, carries them both. _

     Glancing at Emma, she sees the way her daughter looks on, willingly giving the little family some space, but with a longing in her eyes that matches her own every time she looks at her child.

_      Oh my darling, darling girl... _

     “What now,” David asks as the said blond moves towards the stairs of her bedroom.

_      What now indeed? _

     “We rest,” Emma replies, shifting from foot to foot tensely. “We get cleaned up, we crawl into bed, and we deal with...everything come daylight.”

_      Easier said than done. _

     They all know that.

     Their faces, even Henry’s, reflect it darkly.

     But one by one they slowly nod in agreement. Because what else is there to do? Go after the Dark One who is NOT going to be pleased to see them? Corner Maleficent and ask her what her intentions are here in Storybrooke when she’s barely been alive for a few hours? Punish Hook for shooting Belle while he’s currently confined to a hospital bed? 

     Truly, what more can they do, but wait?

 

*********

 

     Relieved with the agreeing members around her, Emma hits the stairs two at a time--stripping her jacket off as she goes, closing the door to her room just enough to give her some privacy. Ditching her pants and shirt--both stained with Sydney’s blood--into a bag, she opens her bedroom window with barely a glance and lets the bag drop into a dumpster down below, finding satisfaction in the way it lands with a resounding thump. Closing and securing the window back up, she moves to put on new clothes that don’t stink of failure.

     Once dressed, she gathers a pair for Regina to borrow--knowing the other woman won’t even dare to bring herself to ask--but also aware how much she’s going to need it once she realizes her own blouse happens to have a splatter stain on its side. Thankfully, it’s currently blended in with the shade of the dress shirt itself. But eventually it’s going to become noticeable, and neither Henry nor Regina need that.

     Securing her holster to her new pants, unwilling to take a chance with Rumplestiltskin, Emma gives her room one last parting glance. Just as she’s about to leave, an unexpected thought pops into her mind, and she strides over to the jacket she has yet to have dry cleaned since her Enchanted Forest adventure. Rummaging through her pockets, she wraps her fingers around what she’s looking for, and comes up triumph.

     Biting her lower lip, she debates her intentions only for a second, before gripping the circular compass tightly and taking it--along with the clothes--to Regina.

 

*********

 

**_The Next Day - Storybrooke_ **

 

     Town is quiet.

     Not a soul has left its home willingly.

     No stores have opened their doors. No cars leave their parking spots. Not even the mail has been picked up and dropped off. Like renegades in a ghost town, a select few stand among stone and grass outside a mausoleum that will soon hold more bodies than it should. They are respective of the mourners gathered. Of the souls lost. Even if they may be arguably unworthy of such an act.

     Regina is grateful, nonetheless, to have them at her back along with Henry at her side.

     She knew Emma would be here--face somber, shoulders tense--in black leather, matching skin tight pants and dress shirt. It’s...probably the best dressed the Savior has ever been. Shame it has to be for such a dreadful occasion.

     Ruby also isn’t a surprise--not with the way her and the wolf have slowly been getting along--in a similarly dressed fashion. She wonders if the material choice isn’t so much weather and situational as it is....preparation. Given Emma’s holster at her hip, and Ruby’s...well...nature, you would think they were almost acting as protective guards.

     Not that the Evil Queen needs such beings.

_      Still.... _

     And then there is Snow White.

     Unwanted as she is--and truly the sight of the woman (dressed much like her daughter) makes her stomach churn--the fair princess nevertheless gives her a sense of closer. As if her presence alone signifies they are both trying to lay to rest pasts that may never wash away, but at least hopefully will no longer stain their future. It’s poetic, in a fairytale sense. Even if Regina herself despises the comparative.

_      A war-torn tale as old as time... _

     Sighing, fingers shifting restless in Henry’s grasp, the brunette garbed in fitted black formal squints at the bright morning sun above--conflicted with the beauty of colors surrounding them. It’s a vividly stark contrast to the sour taste in her mouth, and heavy ache in her heart. A gloomy day, in her mind, would be more appropriate.

     But...perhaps today doesn’t have to all be about the losses at hand.

     Maybe this closing chapter is the start of something more, something...better, for them all. Something that’s not written down in Henry’s book by an invisible author. Something new. Something fresh. Something...powerful.

_      ‘Then love again.’ _

     Daniel’s words seem to whisper by in a blowing breeze, and she closes her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath.

_       Yes. Something different indeed. _

     Squeezing Henry’s hand, signalling her intentions, she opens her eyes--focuses on the ajar doors marked ‘Mills’--and begins the weighted steps forward. Together, they will lay Cora and Sydney Glass to rest--their urns going on either side of the Huntsman on a shelf above Henry Senior. They’ll say their goodbyes in private. Share their tears with only one another.

     And then, when they are all cried out, they will go back to their home. Followed by the trio keeping watch. And figure out what to do next with Maleficent, Rumplestiltskin, Captain Hook, and the Stranger who seems to have also conveniently...disappeared. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like OUAT enjoys doing, I'm giving a breather so to speak. Tying up these loose ends, then my next (possibly two) chapters will be moving us into the direction my 2B will take. 
> 
> So, Regina and Emma will be talking. Regina and Snow will be talking. We'll get the low down on what they've decided on where Rumple, Mal, and Hook are concerned. We'll see where Blue's antics are leading us, and I'll finally release the stressor for some of you that Neal's presence has been causing.
> 
> I feel for Ruby. I think she's about to embark on a bit of self awareness and emotional discovery. That will also apply to Rumple, Belle, and our leading ladies.
> 
> I also like this closing visual piece of the kickass women in Storybrooke kind of intentionally supporting one another. I'm not keeping David absent like he's unwanted. Dude's just trading spots with Ruby at the hospital so she can be here for Regina. I'm sure, in his own way, this is his supportive action. I hope we get to see more of this, with everyone. I've been planting threads left and right, slowly weaving them together in actions and dialogue to draw these characters tighter together. To give that slowly building sense of cohesiveness. I hope, like me, you will continue to be pleased with this constructive habit of mine.
> 
> :) Thank you, once again, for reading!


	54. The Paths We Take pt1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy week all! :) I hope this finds you well.
> 
> A nice long chapter to keep this story in motion.
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Storybrooke_ **

**_2 weeks later_ **

  
  


     “Nothing at all,” Regina asks, sitting behind the desk in her home study, eyeing the blonde across from her curiously.

     Emma shakes her head, sipping at her coffee, adjusting the Sheriff's badge on her belt a little--trying to get comfortable in her seat. “I accidentally threw out the name and vin number you gave me, so I can’t trace a car that no longer seems to exist in town  _ anywhere _ .”

     She rolls her eyes.

_      Of course she did. _

     Sighing, she says, “Ruby claims her books have been wiped clean, and not with white out or an eraser. Someone completely cleared the B&B’s guest list, along with the transactions and accounting--magically.”

     Emma rolls her neck in frustration. “Who would do that? I searched the room him and August stayed in, no signs of either of them.” She raises her hand, “It’s like they both just...,” making an imaginary twister motion, “up and vanished into thin air.”

     It’s an unsettling notion that has been plaguing them, and the town, since that horrid night. No one has felt safe, even as they have slowly gone back to their normal routines. Somewhere, hiding inside their borders, reside three men unaccounted for. 

     August Booth--aka Pinocchio.

     The Stranger who drove into town.

     And Rumplestiltskin.

    “Perhaps they’re lovers having a secret tryst,” comes a voice from the doorway, drawing their attention.

     Raising a brow, Regina takes in the older woman leaning against the frame. Tailored in a light grey suit--complete with tie and vest tucked around a form fitting white dress shirt with blonde locks pinned up and smokey eyes--Maleficent looks like she stepped out of a scene from Mary Poppins instead of the Enchanted Forest.

     Something that has her as equally off balance as the missing men.

_      People are exes for a reason,  _ she mentally reminds herself with a small breath in.

     “Well, I think we can safely assume Gold isn’t off in seclusion with a lover,” mumbles Emma, gaze flickering over Mal as she walks into the office and takes a perch on Regina’s desk diagonal from them.

     “Belle’s due to be released soon,” she reminds the Sheriff at her remark. “If we can’t convince her to stay with Ruby, we’ll find out very soon where Rumplestiltskin is.”

     “You think he’ll come for her?” The younger woman worries her bottom lip with her teeth, disturbed at the thought.

     “More like she’ll go looking for him.” Eyes dropping to smooth wood before her, she trails a finger over its surface. “Don’t let the princess’s generally meek nature fool you. She once hunted down a _ Yaoguai  _ on her own and faced off with it, freeing a young man from a curse.”

     “That I cast,” chimes in Mal, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

     Regina nods, resisting the urge to match it as Emma rolls her eyes.

     “Her being in love with the Dark one is....” She shrugs, not really sure how to finish that thought. Belle, among many other things, has been on her mind as of late.

     Ever since her mother.

     And the unbinding of their hearts.

     She’s not clear if the emotional and mental shifts she’s been experiencing are due to that...or her acceptance of the fact she now has the opportunity for change. A true chance. With no lingering baggage to atone for, save the obvious. Even her much needed visits with Archie have improved, lifting tension from her body and soul in ways she never knew she needed.

     Until now.

     “I suppose we all have our mistakes,” Emma mutters, eyes cast to her boots, tone short. “Or lost causes.”

     A memory flutters across her mind of the first night the young blonde rolled into town, all tight jeans and red leather jacket.

_      ‘And the father?’ _

_      ‘There was one.’ _

_      ‘Do I need to worry about him?’ _

_      ‘Nope. He doesn’t even know.’ _

     She’s wondered about that more than once. About Emma’s past beyond what Sydney was ever able to find. Somewhere between Charming at the wardrobe, and the Savior at her door, a story unfolded that is still a mystery she has yet to unravel. Before...everything that has transpired, her interest in it has been purely for the sake of Henry and her curse.

     Now though...it’s for the uncomfortable state of their tethered... _ whatever _ \--both with their son, and Emma’s parents.

_      Yet another that won’t leave my thoughts. _

     “Well, it’s time for me to head out on patrol again.” The Sheriff suddenly stands--her calf high boots giving her an extra inch or so, bringing her closer to Mal’s naturally tall lanky frame--and pulling Regina from her thoughts.

     She almost misses the way blue eyes roam appreciatively over the woman’s athletic build--Emma still refusing to wear her uniform, sticking to her trademark dress shirt with jeans--and stirs a disturbingly familiar feeling within her.

     “Do try not feeding Henry anymore ice cream before supper, Miss Swan” she requests, gaze narrowing at the younger woman’s side glance and smirk. “I don’t find it amusing to have to hold a bucket for him because of  _ your _ gluttonous behavior.”

     “Yes ma’am,” the younger blonde salutes (annoyingly suppressing a chuckle), before striding out of her office with her typical cocky swagger that has both her and Maleficent starring after her.

     Another twinge. Another emotion. 

_      Damn that woman!  _

     “She stinks of magic.” The sorceress left in her office snaps her from her musing.

     Eyes lifting from the doorway, she meets her gaze.

     “Powerful, disgustingly light, magic.” Her ex lover’s nose wrinkles. “If she ever learns to harness that--”

     “I know,” she cuts in with a shake of her head, “but Emma is stubborn, and a terrible student. Trust me,” she stands, pushing her chair back, “she’s far worse than I  _ ever  _ was.”

     Maleficent chuckles, watching as she walks around the corner opposite of her and towards the door--cleverly using the coffee table to put necessary distance between them.

     She gestures with her departing hand, calling over her shoulder, “Come along, dear, if you wish to eat. We can’t afford another farmer throwing a tizzy because you got hungry and decided to take matters into your own hands.”

     Mal scoffs, sliding off the desk dutifully to shadow after her. “One cow was hardly worth that much fuss over.”

     “It wasn’t the cow so much as the  _ dragon _ soaring above my fair town,  _ hunting _ , that rattled everyone,” Regina counters, striding towards her kitchen.   

     “A little fear never hurt the peasants before,” mutters the older blonde, a bit of a pout on her lips.

     She allows the smirk tugging at her own this time, a glint in her eyes telling the other woman she’s in complete agreement with her in that regard.

_      A little fear indeed. _

 

*********

 

**_Hospital_ **

 

     Emma nods to the nurses in passing, smiling at a few she recalls by name as she makes her way towards the door David’s manning with his bulk in a chair. 

     She was hesitant at first--and it took a bit of persuasion on her end to add her...father, as a part time deputy to her department--but overall, they saw reason (as in she was properly elected and the council had no real say on the matter anyway) and he’s been a big asset ever since.

     Especially in guarding one Killian Jones.

     “Any problems,” she asks, handing him a coffee as he greets her with a smile and stands.

     “Nope. Quiet as usual,” he replies, enjoying the warmth of the drink, and the sight of his daughter.

     She frowns.

     Not that it’s news that Hook hasn’t said much since he was admitted.

     But she’s a bit wary of his...mental state. That he’s been so distant and mute. Granted, she didn’t enjoy Chatty Captain at all.  _ But still... _

     “Alright,” she sighs, waving down the hallway. “Take a break, go get something to eat. I’m gonna sit with him a bit.”

     Smile spreading, David grips her shoulder affectionately in passing, before wandering off.

     Adjusting her jacket and squaring her shoulders--slipping into ‘Sheriff Mode’ as Snow calls it--she opens the hospital room door with a knock. Peeking inside, she makes sure Hook is decent, Before entering and taking a seat near his bed.

     Dull blue eyes follow her every move, watching--staring--until she’s settled in her chair. The scruffy man (he even refuses to shave) then turns away, facing off to a corner, lost--she thinks--to the churning of his mind.

     “You’re being discharged this evening,” she informs, crossing her right leg over her left to rest her ankle on her knee. “But you won’t be going far.” She waits for a reaction, a lifting of a brow, a twitch of a lip--but nothing happens. She draws in a small frustrating breath through her nose. “Because you are a flight risk, under threat by Rumplestiltskin, and a violent offender, I have no choice but to confine you to the psychiatric ward in the lower quarters of this building.”

     A small tick pulls at Hook’s cheek.

     But it’s gone as quickly as it occurred.

     Emma swallows another sigh.

     She really hates this.

_      Fucking Pirates. _

     Hook’s presence, his whole situation, makes it clear that Storybrooke has to undergo some changes. She has no doubt--not after the past few weeks--that he won’t be the last villain to likely drift in to town. Not if August and their Stranger are anything to go by. Like some stupid beacon, this place seems to draw out the worst of the Enchanted Forest, and they need to be able to handle that.

_      To be prepared.      _

_      For everyone’s sake. _

     A few more minutes of silence pass. Her studying him while he continues staring at the wall. She wonders for a beat or two what he’s thinking about. What he must be feeling. If he perhaps, in that hairy chest of his, has some remorse over what he did to Belle.

_      Doubtful. _

     Standing, unable to take the suffocating absence of conversation, she double checks his cuffs confining him to the bed. Surprisingly, he hasn’t picked at them, hasn’t even tried...and she’s not sure if she’s relieved, disappointed...or both.

_      ‘Y’know, most men would take your silence as off-putting. But I love a challenge.’ _

_      ‘I’m concentrating.’ _

_      ‘No, you’re afraid, afraid to talk. To reveal yourself. Trust me. Things would be a lot smoother if you did.’ _

     “Enjoy the last of your freedom,” she urges him, the lines of her face hardening in repressed anger at the memory of their beanstalk climb. Fully aware how their roles have reversed. “It’s all you’re going to get for a long, long time.”

     With a parting glare, she leaves the unperturbed man behind--slamming the door to his room--and taking a seat in the chair out front until David can return from his break.

 

*********

 

**_Convent_ **

 

     Nova didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

     Truly, she didn’t.

     But Blue has been acting stranger and stranger ever since Cora Mill’s departure. Hiding herself away in her little workshop. Locking the door even to prevent others from knowing what she’s been up to. She understands the mature fairy is much older than her and her sisters. She gets that Reul Ghorm has wisdom that far exceeds their own. 

     That’s why she’s Mother, after all.

     But the air around the convent--around the woman herself--reeks of something....unsettling...that she just can’t put her finger on.

     And then there was that voice.

_      Correction. _

_      Voices! _

     She heard them coming from the small building just off their large residence earlier in the week. The conversation was muddled, but she could distinctly make out a man and a young boy--both whom she has yet to see come out of, or enter into, the structure in the last three days.

_      Perhaps they are assisting Blue with something? _

_      Maybe their schedules have them coming and going during our services? _

_      Maybe.....? _

     She’s thought about mentioning it to Grumpy.

     However, she’s not sure what either of them can do should they discover Mother Superior has been...well....that’s just it. She doesn’t know  _ what _ she’s up to.

     So her gut and her fingers twist anxiously with irrational concern.

_      What to do...what to do... _

     So lost in thought this afternoon is she, that while slowly making her way further into town away from the grounds of her home, she doesn’t realize she’s been walking in a daze until she’s startled by a little boy stepping out from a store front.

     “Hi Astrid,” he calls, and she jumps--hand going to her stuttering heart in surprise.

     “Oh!” Her eyes lift from the pavement to the hazel orbs staring at her intently. “Henry! Oh, I’m sorry, Henry,” she reaches out, nerves settling at the sight of his impish smile, and squeezes his shoulder gently. “I didn’t see you there. I-I was distracted.”

     He shrugs, tilting his head inquisitively (so much like his mother) as he grips the straps of his backpack. “That’s ok. Are you alright?”

     She nods her head, opening her mouth to dismiss his worry.

     But something stops her.

     And it must read on her face, because--as her smile becomes strained--Henry’s brow furrows, and then he nods towards Granny’s Diner.

     “I’m about to meet Emma for a snack before going home. Want to join us?”

_      Emma...who is the Sheriff...Snow and Charming’s daughter....The Savior... _

_      Hmmmm. _

     Taking in a steadying breath, she nods. “That sounds like fun.”

     With a beaming smile, the boy grabs her offered hand, and they cross the street to the diner--her gut knotting itself further and further with every step they make.

 

*********

 

     “Foolish, foolish girl,” Reul Ghorm mutters to herself, shaking her head in building anxiety and frustration. She quickly makes her way towards her workshop, having spotted Nova staring at it for far too long before walking off.

     She had caught the younger fairy meandering around it the last couple of days, a bothersome look on her face. Ever since the curse broke, she’s been evasive and insolent in her behavior. Especially with the dwarf.

_      Can’t she see no good will come of their relationship? _

_      That we are not meant for...love? _

     It pains her, truly it does, to see such ignorant light in Nova’s eyes. She knows the cost of forbidden affection. She’s been there. She’s paid the price. More than once.

     And if it were not for her Majesty, for Regina, she would be able to resume paying her debts still owed.

     Now, however, she must find a way to make her actions over the last few weeks disappear before Nova can speak her suspicions to someone. No one can know what she’s been up to until the time is right. Any kind of interference, any disruption at all, will undo all the exhausting progress she has made.

_      My Queen would be so disappointed.  _

_      I can still hear her voice, even after all this time _

_      ‘No good has ever come from meddling in the affairs of humans.’ _

     Oh, how right she had been.

     Unlocking the door to the stone building, she steps inside--slamming it shut behind her.

_      No time to hesitate. _

     Securing the heavy wood, she strides purposefully over to her covered pottery--double checking that they are fully concealed--before moving to an old tall dusty cabinet. Taking a steadying breath in front of the padlocked double doors, she squares her shoulders and pulls out a key to open them.

     As soon as the lock drops, the doors swing wide, a draft pushing out from the other side. Head tilting, listening for a beat, ears straining for any kind of unwelcomed sounds, she grabs a nearby candle--lights it--and steps into the dark space. 

     Clearing the first barely visible step, then the next, she turns back to face the open doors thoughtfully for a moment, before cautiously raising her hand--and closing them with soft blue magic. Consumed in darkness, she draws in another firming breath, and then descends into the dank breezy hidden tunnel.  

 

*********

 

**_Downtown_ **

 

     Emma scuffs the heels of her boots as she finishes her trek to Granny’s diner, lost in her thoughts. She had parked at the station, after David’s return to his post--deciding to meet Henry on foot instead of driving the short distance. They would be going back there anyways for him to finish his homework before she returns him to Regina for the night.

_      No point in wasting gas. _

     Not that it cost her anything.

     Two weeks of quiet, present mysteries aside, and Storybrooke is almost back to normal.

_      Well, as close to normal as things may ever get. _

     Which should make her feel a bit better...calmer, with the sense of familiarity and routine habits. Which it has, in some vital ways. Her temperament has eased, making her interactions with everyone much more agreeable than they had been. Especially with Regina and her folks. It’s all...fragile. Progressive. She likes it a lot.

     But her gut still has a weight in it.

     She’s way more aware of her magic now, making her question herself like Peter Parker did when he first realized his new super powers--including her own ‘fated’ role as Savior of this fair town. She doesn’t need a parental figure dying to keep her conscious of  _ ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ _ . She encounters it everyday--residents asking her questions like,  _ ‘When will the curse fully break?’, ‘Will the White Kingdom return?’, ‘Can we go home?’. _

     Sigh.

     She doesn’t know the answers to any of those.

     Henry might.

     Snow and David too.

     Regina  _ definitely _ would.

     But no one is harassing them like they are her.

_      Is this what Harry Potter felt like? Burdened with the weight of an entire world he has little knowledge of and experience in? _

     Then again, Harry seemed like he wanted it. He needed the escape. The purpose.

     Her?

     She’s not sure yet.

     “Emma!” The boyish shout snaps her from her thoughts, and she looks up to find her son crossing the street towards her with...a nun?

_      Correction. Fairy. Grumpy’s fairy. _

     “Hey, Henry,” she greets, tilting her head questioningly. “Sister...Astrid?” She nods in acknowledgement, hoping like hell she got the woman’s name right.

     “Nova,” the petite brunette corrects with a nervous blush. “I-it’s Nova.”

     Emma smiles, hoping to ease the fairy. “Nova. Got it.” She shifts her gaze back to Henry. “How was school? Ready for that milkshake?”

     He rocks on his feet, fingers digging into the straps of his backpack as he resumes their joined pace to the diner. “Yep. Can Nova join us?” He glances from her to the smaller woman and back, eyes gleaming with something that screams  _ ‘trust me, go with it’ _ .

     Emma gives him a quizzical look but agrees with a drawn out, “Sure. Why not.”

_      What the hell are you up to Henry? _

     Nova smiles at them, anxiety rolling off her, and thanks Emma as she gesture for her to enter Granny’s after Henry as she opens the door.

_      Oh boy. _

 

*********

 

**_On the Outskirts of Town_ **

 

     Two weeks and his hand is still tender--the flesh just finishing stitching itself.

     Rumple sneers at the magical wound, wishing the Genie from Agrabah was alive so he could stab him again.

_      And again. _

_      And again. _

     Anything to focus his roiling anger on.

_      Almighty cosmic power! Wasted in a bag of bones. Itty bitty living space indeed. _

     “What to do, what to do,” he mutters, pacing from one window to another--staring out restlessly at his woodland surroundings. 

     Masking his presence in his little cabin costs him each day from healing his hand any faster. His shoulder was easy. This--not so much. If his mind was a bit more stable, and his senses dull, he’d just pop into town to grab a few things from his home and shop. But he’s not Rumplestiltskin anymore. He’s the Dark One--fully merged--and he’s wanted man.

_      The one to fear the most! _

     “Yes indeed, yes indeed.”

     Oh how the peasants use to cower at the mention of his name.

     At his mere existence.

_      But things are different here. _

     His nose twitches at the magic surrounding the border of the town. Pressing down upon everything. Stinking up the air. 

     “Regina,” he sneers, face scrunching. “Evil Queen.” A frown drags his features down. “Evil  _ Wench _ !”

     His once student was certainly clever, clever, clever!

     Eyes softening, he sighs and leans his forehead against a cool window pane.

     Was it too much to ask for? To have his son back. Was his centuries of crimes such a debt that his price will forever be separation from Baelfire?

     “Oh Bae,” he sobs, squeezing his eyes shut.

_      He’s not the only one lost. _

_      No. _

_      No, the princess is gone too. _

     He shakes his head, biting his lip, trying to push the heartache that pierces through him away. Thinking of...her, does him no good. He left her behind. He cast her aside. She’s better off without him, and he...cannot take anymore from her.

_      Not after Hook! _

     His good hand suddenly clenches into a fist and strikes the glass in front of him, shattering it. Pupils blown black, his nostrils and magic flare at the thought of the heinous pirate. The walls of his cabin begin to shake with his volatile rage, his burning desire to kill the foul cretin.

     “I’ll have your blood, Killian Jones” he shouts into the daylight, madness clawing at his brain. “I’ll crush your bones and eat your innards, you worthless piece of shit!”   

     Spittle flies from his mouth.

     His body trembling.

_      Kill him! Kill him! KILL HIM, _ the voices in his mind scream.

     “I will,” he promises, nodding to his own fractured reflection. “Oh I will.”

 

*********

 

**_Hospital_ **

 

     “At least consider it,” Ruby asks with a heavy sigh, eyes downcast to the auburn haired woman shifting around gingerly on a hospital.

     She brought Belle the most comfortable set of sweats she owes, knowing the princess is still in a good amount of pain after her surgery. The sight of her petite frame swaddled in soft cotton tugs at her heart as they stand in her room, but she bites her lip, pushing the emotion aside.

     “I will try,” the librarian replies with a soft uncertain smile.

     She gets it.

     No matter how much she might feel, Belle’s whole world has been a nightmare since  _ (hell, even before) _ the curse broke, and she’s looking for some kind of solid ground to stand on made by her own volition.

     She just wishes...the woman could trust in  _ someone _

_      I thought we were at least friends... _

     “Ok,” she sighs, shoving her anxious hands into her back pants pockets. “Let’s...get you to wherever you’d like to go, then.”

     “My loft within the clock tower above the library,” Belle croaks, suppressing a groan as she slowly slides off the bed while Ruby grabs her duffel bag of meager belongings.

     She offers the princess a reassuring smile, wanting to support this free choice of hers.

     But her gut is squeezing itself as she follows the auburn head in front of her at a measured pace.

_      Rumple owns that building. He gave her that space. _

     Pulling out her phone, she draws in a deep breath, and then shoots off a text to Regina and Emma.

_      They’re not going to be happy about this. _

 

*********

 

**_Regina’s Vault_ **

 

     “That little talking device of yours has gone off again,” mutters Maleficent, drawing Regina from the circular object in her hand as they work in her vault.

     Looking up from the compass she has been painstakingly trying to figure out since Emma gave it to her, she glances at the older blonde--head deep in an old tome on a nearby chair--then at her phone. She frowns at the short message from Ruby, followed by an incoming one from the Sheriff. 

    _Sigh._

     “I take it the mouse is unwilling to bed with the wolf,” Mal says, reading her expression accurately, though her eyes never leave the page she’s staring at.

     Shaking her head, she shoots off a quick request back to both women, asking them to return to the mansion later that evening to discuss further actions concerning Rumple’s once true love.

     The town council may no longer see her as Mayor--and most of Storybrooke’s residents, as Queen--but she was, and forever will be, a woman of swift decisive action. So long as her and her son live here, she’ll run this damn town  _ she created _ under their noses in any way possible to keep that which matters--safe.

     Belle, begrudgingly, has somehow always been apart of such things.

_      A beautiful mind is a terrible thing to waste. _

     “Have you found anything?” She nods to the book in the dragon’s hand, setting her phone aside and picking the compass back up as she stands at her worktable.

_      How exactly does it focus across realms? _

_      Emma said she just pictured Storybrooke and jumped (foolishly) into the portal made from the ashes of her old wardrobe. IT carried her here _ . 

_      But...how? _

_      What sources it? _

     “No.” Is her short response.

     She glares at the other woman.

     Lifting her head, leaning back, Maleficent studies her for a moment before expressing  _ (yet again) _ , “The only way you are ever go to solve that little puzzle is with fairy magic, Dear. It was gifted to the Giants by the Queen herself. No other approach will resolve that.”

     Huffing, setting the device down, she crosses her arms in frustration.

     “Well why don’t I just whip up a batch,” she snarks, gesturing towards her collection of ingredients and potions. “Or better yet, go steal a wand from one of the twits at the convent.”

     Mal levels an unamused gaze at her, waiting for her little tantrum to pass--before replying, “Or steal the one Rumple so deftly hid from you. I imagine, in his hasty departure, he’s left many--intriguing--things behind in that shop of his.”

     Regina’s brow furrows. “How do you know what’s in his shop?”

     Sound idea as it may be _ (and it is), _ Mal has been nowhere without her.

     Not since that thieving incident.

     The woman, though free to roam as her past crimes have been pardoned (with the firm belief in her desire to start anew), has kept mostly to her side. Sometimes annoyingly so.

     Offering her a coy smile, the dragon stands and says, “Henry.”

_      Of course. _

     “He’s been rather...thoughtful, in sharing all the ins and outs of your ocean-side home.”

     Her son’s fascination, and delicate emotional state, has made him ping pong  _ (that’s what Emma calls it) _ from one person to the next with endless interest and conversation. The younger blonde and Archie both agree it’s part of his healing process, his way to come to terms with everything that has transpired since the curse broke. 

     It’s also a way for him to ‘fit in’. To be apart of their world as it slowly continues to mesh with this one.

     Letting out a calming breath with a roll of her eyes, she grabs her phone, the compass, and gestures for Mal to lead the way out of the vault. Her son may be willing to share all about Storybrooke with her ex, but she’ll be damned if she’s going to leave the woman alone with some of her most precious magical collection.

 

*********

 

**_The Loft_ **

 

     Snow White adjusts the brown leather jacket around her shoulders one last time, double checking her reflection in her mirror with a heavy sigh, before turning and grabbing her nearby boots. She’s found herself, as of late, dressing more and more like the bandit she once was. Tight trousers, leather outerwear--a knife hidden upon her.

     She doesn’t know if it’s the melding of her cursed persona with her true identity...or the knowledge that she put an arrow into the shoulder of the Dark One.

     Either way, Mary Margaret has made a slow, withering, disappearance from Storybrooke.

     And she’s alright with that.

_      The dresses were at least...nice...ish. _

     David and Emma both have been irritatingly over protective in the past two weeks.

     Taking such extreme measures as to ask Regina, of all people, to put a protective barrier around their apartment. The woman refused--to use her own magic, anyway. Instead, she made her daughter build the spell with her, teaching her the basics--and using her light magic--so in the end it is Emma’s natural knightly manner that keeps them safe when here.

_      So much like her father. _

_      Too much so. _

     Shaking her head, boots zipped, she glances around her small adobe in parting thought, tired of being cooped up and unfree to walk about town alone. Grabbing her keys, she heads out the door and down the steps--stepping into the afternoon sun in the direction of Granny’s Diner--where she knows her child, and her grandson, will be indulging in their weekly after school snack.

_      If Rumplestiltskin wants to have it out, he knows where to find me. _

_      My family is more important. _

_      I don’t cower. Regina, of all people, would know that. _

 

*********

 

**_Granny’s Diner_ **

 

     “So, Nova, how are things at the convent,” asks Emma, wanting to get down to whatever Henry is up to as they enjoy their milkshakes. She made sure to get the kid a small one this time, for the sake of peace.

_      Can only push that woman’s buttons so far. _

     Watching the fairy opposite her son closely, she takes in her nervous tics--twitchy fingers, too wide smile, roaming eyes that won’t settle. Something has the woman rattled, and Henry either knows what it is, or is curious enough to find out.

     “I-it’s um,” she draws in shaky breath, glancing at the other occupants in the eatery around them, “it’s fine...”

     Or not, considering the nun just dragged ‘fine’ out like a question.

     “Whatever it is,” she assures, letting her Sheriff tone slip, “you can tell us about it.”

     Henry nods, lips around the straw of his drink.

     It could just be more...Enchanted Forest drama. Or...romantic issues.

_      Uck. _

_      Either way, better not take any chances. _

     Clearing her throat, leaning closer to the boy and dropping her voice, Nova replies hesitantly, “I just...I think I may have, stumbled upon something I shouldn’t have.”

_      Dear Gods, please let it not be dwarf related. _

     Shifting against her son, she inclines the other woman to continue, readying her hands just in case she has to suddenly cover Henry’s ears.

     “It’s Blue,” the fairy whispers.

     She tenses.

     Anger swelling in her gut and hardening the lines of her body. She works to keep the emotion off her face, wanting Nova to keep talking, but the kid senses her state, and scrunches his brow at her.

     “I-she’s been working secretly in her shop on the grounds,” the brunette continues, concern darkening her eyes. “For weeks now, no one goes in and out but her. The door is always locked, and the windows are blocked by potted plants covered in trash bags.” She shakes her head, hand gripping the counter tightly. “I want to believe it’s nothing except...”

_      Except....? _

     “What is it,” asks Henry quietly, hand tightening around his drink. His face a mixture of boyish fascination and valid worry.

_      Hasn’t he been through enough already? _

     She gets that he has a sense of adventure in him, and this innate need to be a hero fixing things.

     But that’s her place, not his.

     “I heard voices, other than Blue’s,” Nova reveals, biting at her lower lip. “A man and a boy in fact. Both whom I have yet to see come and go from the building or even the grounds of the convent.”

     Her chest expands as she lets the words sink in, heart starting to hammer with revelation.

_      A boy. _

_      And a man. _

     No child, as far as she knows, is currently missing--unless you count Pinocchio.

_      But there are two other men unaccounted for. _

     Before she can respond, the door to the diner opens, and Henry’s face unexpectedly lights up in recognition of someone. Turning, she catches her mother’s questioning (and determined) gaze with a raised brow.

_      Just perfect. _

     Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Nova retreat back instantly at the sight of Snow White.

     “Kid, call your mom, tell her I’m bringing you home early,” she says to him, handing her phone over as she shifts off her stool to meet her mother as she approaches.

     Snow frowns. “You guys leaving already? I was hoping to join you.”

     “Yeah,” she nods, reaching for her jacket, “but you’re coming with us.” At the confused look on MM’s face, she gestures to Nova. “Seems we may have a situation at the convent. I want to discuss it with Regina.”

     Watching intently, she takes stock the emotions of uncertainty and dread that flicker across both women’s demeanor.

_      They know something, something not shared yet. _

     “Lead the way,” Snow requests with a lift of her chin, pulling her out of her observations.

     So she does just that, motioning for the trio to follow her as she hits the door to the diner in quick long strides.

     Whatever Blue is up to, she’s going to figure it out.

     And maybe, just maybe, she’ll get to finally--justifiably--punch that fairy right in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. Regina. Maleficent. Stop staring at Emma. I know, it's hard, but...ah what the hell, enjoy it ;).
> 
> Killian is...I think he's adrift. Mentally and Emotionally. He's done what he has sought to do. He's damaged the Dark One. He's achieved his revenge. Now what?
> 
> I dig Nova. I think she's fascinating and I hope I get to use her more often. Blue is...she's been naughty, and I kind of like it. 
> 
> Rumple, Rumple, Rumple. You're a mad little Imp. Welcome back to your Dark Side.
> 
> Man, Ruby, I just...don't know what to say to you. Belle understandably has no trust in anyone. She literally almost died trying to protect the man she fully believes she shares true love with. Give her time? Let her go? I just...I don't know.
> 
> I so badly want badass Snow to continue making a comeback. Her, Emma, David, and Regina are like the power supreme. Henry could not ask for a more awesome lineage. And Emma, I want you to get that chance. I wanna see you and Blue go head to head.


	55. The Paths We Take pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the Gods!!
> 
> I am so sorry for the late update. I caught a head cold that dripped all my brain cells out of me. It's been two weeks and I can just now not kill a box of tissues in a single day while trying to form coherent thoughts. I can promise you, I was writing throughout it, but I had to take some serious time to edit everything because my befuddled mind just typed up a whole bunch of babble that would not have made any sense.
> 
> Sheesh.
> 
> Anyways. On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

**_Blue’s Secret_ **

 

_      Drip. _

_      Drip. _

_      Drip. _

     The sound was irritating. A passive form of torture slowly driving him mad. Fate really is against him. Of all the people he had hoped to encounter stumbling out of that cave, Reul Ghorm was the last Neal ever wanted to see.

_      What the hell is she even doing here anyway? _

     For a supposed Evil Queen, the Regina woman who brought everyone here sure knows how to pick people in her curses. What use does a magical sorceress have for a fairy? His father never liked them. He can’t imagine her Majesty feeling any different.

_      Bugs, papa called them. Nothing but troubling, menacing, bugs. _

_      I should have listened to him. _

     Groaning at the damn condensation falling from the ceiling, he shifts on the cot he’s been resting upon for at least a week inside an old dank dungeon nestled  _ who knows  _ where.

_      Am I back underground? Above? Somewhere in between? _

     There are no windows. Barely any drafts, no sounds or smells of any kind outside the cobblestone surrounding him. He doesn’t think he’s a prisoner. He’s not shackled or locked in a cell per se. But there is only one way in and out--up the stairs he can now hear someone descending--and the doors at the top have been locked each time he’s tried them.

     “Do you think it’s Blue,” asks a weary--timid--voice off to his right.   

     Glancing at the red-headed child resting on another cot catty corner to his own, he shrugs, not wanting to lie to the boy or scare him. 

_      After what he's been through? _

_      What I’ve endured? _

     No one approaching is going to make this situation any better.

     And they both know that.

     “I just want to go home to papa,” the kid mumbles, tucking himself further into a fetal position.

     He nods with a sigh. “Yeah. Me too, buddy. Me too.”

 

*****

 

**_Regina’s Mansion_ **

 

     “Now there’s a sight you don’t see everyday.”

     Maleficent’s voice has her raising a brow as her home comes into view, the dragon’s words ringing true at the clustering of people gathered outside her front gate. She’s grateful that Henry has wisely kept everyone from her door. He’s become better at understanding her hesitancy to trust, at the unfortunate--complex--relationships she has with a lot of people in town, and the disheartening reality that not everyone is as they appear to be.

     It’s almost like he’s trying to emulate Emma in his approach to her and their new world.

     She aches for his newfound wariness.

     But she appreciates the model of self awareness and guarded behavior that Miss Swan is instilling within him.

     “It looks like an awful comedy skit,” she murmurs, receiving an odd look from Mal who doesn’t get the joke while they finish their walk towards the mansion.

     “So a Fairy, a Princess, a Sheriff, and a kid arrive at a sorceress’ home,” Emma starts, a twinkle in her eye, having apparently overheard them.

     “And only one comes out alive,” she finishes with a wicked smirk. “Care to take a guess as to whom, Miss Swan?”

     “It better be me,” Henry states with raised chin, his own humor tugging at the corner of his boyish glare.

     She winks at him, earning an eye roll from his young blond mother. “But of course.”

     Opening the gate, she gestures for the group to follow her. “Let’s take this inside away from prying eyes, shall we,” resisting the urge to chuckle as Emma mutters something under her breath out being  _ ‘eatin’ alive by a witchy woman’ _ .

     Mal easily complies, Henry and the Sheriff right behind her.

     Snow and Nova, however, hesitate. Dragging their steps out--uncertainty pinching their brows for separate reasons. As they reach the threshold of her home, she catches their mutual attention with a knowing look.

     “You came here willingly. Whether you trust myself, or Miss Swan, to figure out what Reul Ghorm’s up to, I don’t care.” She holds her former step-daughter’s gaze a beat longer than the fairy’s. “I simply ask that, for the sake of all involved, you leave your issues with me  _ outside  _ this door. Understood?”

     Both petite women nod silently in agreement--Snow’s inclining gesture a bit more refined as if she’s once again a princess in front of a Queen--before passing into her abode, following the sounds of the others in conversation.

     Alone at her door, she eyes the streets surrounding them thoughtfully--reaching out slightly with her magic to be sure they are unobserved. The loudest dwarf of all (and Nova’s... _ whatever _ ) is holding up the walls in one of the cells at the station due to another drunken binger. Every other worrisome snoop is also either locked up, or caught in their own daily activities--continuing their oblivious return to normality.

     Satisfied, she shuts the world out with a resounding _ ‘click’, _ and makes her way towards her busy kitchen.

 

*****

 

**_Belle’s Apartment_ **

 

     Ruby is trying her best not to let her frustration show.

     But the forlorn look on Belle’s face as she sighs--taking a seat on the couch in her apartment--is driving her crazy. Hook  _ shot her _ , because of  _ Rumpelstiltskin _ . She would have been safe, if not for  _ him. _

_      I know love makes people foolish, but c’mon! _

     Her feelings may be knew, and...confusing mixed with complicated...still, she would never intentionally have put the petite auburn haired woman in that kind of position. Yeah, she beat herself up when she was sitting at the princess’ side after her surgery--uncertain if she was going to pull through. Self doubt and recrimination is pretty standard where grief is concerned.

     At least, in her case.

     But now, two weeks later, she can’t stop thinking....wondering....

     “You should go,” Belle speaks up, drawing her out of her thoughts.

     “I’m not leaving you,” she shakes her head, plopping herself down on an old kitchen chair.

     “I don’t need a bodyguard,” the other woman glares, shifting restlessly in a bit of pain. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself so long as I go easy. The doctors even said so.”

     “It’s not just about protecting you,” she argues, crossing her arms, further irked by Belle’s behavior. “It’s also about making sure you actually are alright, doctor’s assumptions aside.”

     “Hook is in confinement, is he not?”

     She nods, biting her lip.

_      He will be this evening at least. _

     “And...,” tears gloss over Belle’s eyes, digging at her heart, “R-Rumple’s....”

_      Gods, she can’t even say his name. _

     “That’s the thing,” she stresses softly, reaching across the small distance between them to take the other woman’s hand gently. “We don’t know where he is or what he’s like.”

     Because he definitely had looked like a murderous monster the last she had seen of him. And if the darkness within has decided to take him over full, the man Rumpelstiltskin is likely long gone.

     A droplet of sorrow trickles from blue eyes.

     She doesn’t hesitate to reach up, wiping it away as it tries to trail down a rose dusted cheek.

     “I’m sorry, Belle,” she mumbles, squeezing the princess’ hand. “I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you thought loved you. I know the anger, the pain, and the...doubt that grips you.”

     The librarian squeezes her hand back tightly, biting her lip to keep her chaotic feelings from spilling over. Her chest wall is as fragile as her heart, it wouldn’t take much to tear at both her physical and emotionally fresh stitches.

     Her own throat flexing in sympathy, she holds onto her friend, hoping like hell she can help her pull through this so they both can come out the other side--better, and stronger.

 

*****

 

**_The Hospital_ **

 

     The benefit of being himself is that no one really remembers him.

     Full beard, husky build, and signature red knitted cap aside--Smee possesses the gift of forgettability. He’s characterless when he wants it. A nameless face in a crowd that blends and blurs with others. It’s what makes him a good dealer. He can move and source the exchange of merchandise with nary a gleam of recognition from a variety of clientele.

     It’s also what gives him the advantage to go about seamlessly in places as if he belongs. All you need are the right clothes, attitude, and the ability to twist a truth.

     That’s how he’s here now, making his way down multiple hospital corridors in scrubs, until he finally spots Prince Charming resting outside a nondescript door.

_      Bingo. _

     Straightening his shirt, and double checking the fake bade clipped to his chest, he puts on his best smile and approaches the once King with his typical nervous stride.

     “Can I help you,” the man asks with a raised brow, sensing his arrival just as his shoes come to a squeak a few feet from him.

     “I-,” he fidgets, uneasy at the Consort’s broad size and shoulder holstered service weapon, “I came to check on the patient. I’m suppose to help you move him once his cell is ready.”

     David considers him quietly for a moment, hesitant and wary.

     He offers the man a shaky smile. One he’s used countless times before to disarm people during business agreements.

     It seems to do the trick.

     With a firm nod and a sigh, the deputy stands, shifting his chair back just enough to unlock the door and let him pass into the hospital room.

     He thanks him with an anxious nod, entering the small quarters, bracing himself for the sight of his Captain shackled to a bed. As soon as Hook spots him, he lifts his chin slightly, then tilts his head to the side curiously as if both surprised and intrigued by his presence.

     “I-I’m here to make sure you will be ready for transport in a couple hours, Mister Jones,” he informs him, voice a bit high and strained.

_      Please play along, please play along. _

     The good captain watches his every move--as does Prince Charming from his stance in the doorway--while he double checks the vitals on the chart at the foot of the bed, and then reaches for the bandage covering Hook’s shoulder.

     It’s only when he begins to lift the hospital gown up that the older man moves.

     With lightning reflexes, strong fingers snap around his wrist, making him jump as the hovering deputy shouts a warning.

     “Let him go, Hook!”

     His heart pounds in his chest, blue eyes burning into him.

     They share a brief--silent--conversation, one only men accustomed to lifetimes of traveling together can do. With a deep gulp, he takes a cautious step back from the pirate--the man squeezing his wrist once--before suddenly dropping his hold.

     Letting out a steadying breath, he turns back towards the door and scurries out as David slams it shut behind him.

     “I-I’ll return when i-it’s time,” he assures the deputy, fleeing without giving him a chance to question Hook’s behavior.

     It’s for the best. The look in the captain’s eye said it all.

     Whatever scheme he has brewing, the nefarious Killian Jones is in.

 

*****

 

**_The Mansion_ **

 

     “So spill.” Regina reaches into her fridge, removing a pitcher of iced tea for everyone who wants, as her gaze settles on Henry’s mother. The quartet of fairy tale characters have gathered around her kitchen island, each with a mixture of edgy expressions. 

     “I think Blue knows where Pinocchio and our missing stranger is,” Emma replies, readily accepting a glass--along with Henry and Snow. The Sheriff glances at a nervous Nova, encouraging her to speak up with a look.

     “Well,” the fairy croaks, eyes darting between herself and the younger blonde, “I-I don’t know about that...” She draws in a shaky breath, he gaze shifting to Maleficent who meets her uncertainty with a contempt look. It seems to spark a bit of a fire within the petite nun’s spine, her features morphing suddenly into stirred conviction. “But, Blue’s behavior of late has been...suspicious.”

“How so,” she inquires, eyeing the fairy curiously.

     The compass is resting unseen inside her coat pocket. Her fingers twitch with the notion of retrieving it--depending on what the brunette has to share. If only fairy blood truly can make it work, she needs to be extra vigilant in concealing its existence. The last thing they need is it falling into the wrong hands.

     “Her workshop,” Nova starts, shoulders visibly tightening as she recounts what she told Emma. “For almost three weeks now no one has been able to enter it, or even ask what she’s been up to. Yet, in the last few days, I’ve heard voices,” she glances at the Sheriff, “that of a man and a boy, inside, conversing.” She shakes her head, fingers twisting restlessly together. “But as I said, no one is allowed in the small building but Blue, and I’ve not seen anyone except her come and go from it, no matter the hour of day.”

     She lets the words circle through her mind for a beat, before shifting her own gaze to Emma and Mal--worry stirring in her gut.

     Reul Ghorm has always been shady.

     But if what Nova’s sharing is true...

     “Your coven is still without fairy dust, correct,” asks the Dragon beside her, a look of knowing passing over her face. 

     The brunette nods. “Grumpy says the mine is too collapsed to attempt any kind of reentrance. Unless we find another, or an exposed vein, it’s unlikely we will ever have magic in this land.”

     “Then she may very well be sourcing her own.”

     Mal’s response make her grimace, her stomach turning at the notion.

     “What does that mean,” Emma queries with a frown. 

     “Reul Ghorm is older than Rumpelstiltskin,” Snow answers before she can. “She doesn’t need fairy dust like the others.”

     “And?” The younger blond raises a brow questioningly, needing more.

     A sour taste entering her mouth, she shakes her head, unwilling to say it aloud.

     “We need to get into that workshop.”

 

     Not ten minutes later, herself and Emma are doing just that.

     With strained reluctance, they left Henry in the care of the three women back at the mansion. As resourceful as Snow White and Maleficent can be, this investigation requires a more...delicate approach.

     Which the Sheriff snorts at when she reasons while the woman pulls a small tool kit from her coat pocket and begins picking the lock of the stone building.

     “What?”

     The younger blond raises a brow at her, shaking her head. “Out of everyone in this town, besides Grumpy, you and I are the two biggest hot heads when confronting someone.” Emma shifts her attention back to the door, giving it a little jiggle with a muffled grunt. “Delicate, your Majesty, is not something we do.”

_      Excuse her? _

     Sniffing--indignant at the presumption, she crosses her arms and raises her chin slightly. “I beg to differ. As Queen, I spent my days being quite diplomatic in matters far more parlous than this one.”

     The blond rolls her eyes, then smiles triumphantly as the large oak door suddenly groans--popping open.

     Watching the Sheriff pocket her handy tool, she makes a mental note to ask her if it’s standard position equipment or not. She can’t recall Graham every having to use such a thing during his tenure.

     Nose wrinkling at the smell coming from within the hovel, Emma gestures her ahead. “Ladies first.”

     Her turn to roll her eyes, she enters the workshop cautiously, taking the time to let her eyes adjust to the semi light streaming in from the small windows mostly blocked by the plants Nova had told them about. The pungent odor is a rich mix of fertilized soil, stale air, and old magic.

     Unlike Maleficent--who carries the typical fire and brimstone smell, Blue’s is a burnt sugary scent that stings at your nostrils like severely over-baked cookies. It’s sickeningly sweet, bitter, and her stomach churns again as she slowly approaches the bagged pottery.

     “So,” Emma clears her throat--far closer than she expected, startling her. “Are you going to explain to me what Maleficent meant by Blue ‘sourcing’ her own magic?”

     Glaring, she nods towards one of the clay holders in front of her on a dusty shelf. “Unbag that and find out.”

     Emma frowns--apprehensive--but moves to do as asked, gaze darting between the wrapped planter and her. “What exactly is she up to? Do fairies like...actually grow out of flowers? Did Disney get that right?”

     Biting her lip, she doesn’t reply, just waits with growing trepidation while the blond tears away the tape holding the garbage bag over the pot. It takes longer than anticipated as Blue not only sealed the bags with tape, but glue as well, forcing a grumbling Emma to pull out a pocket knife to cut away at the epoxy.

     As soon as air hits the plastic, a stench of rot strikes them, and they both turn their heads away in disgust.

     Alarm striking hazel eyes as they meet hers, the Sheriff rips the bag up and off like a bandage concealing a festering wound, exposing Blue’s daily habit for the past few weeks.

     “Oh my God,” Emma gapes, starting with growing horror at the macabre masterpiece.  

_      By the Gods indeed. _

     “Mal was right,” she gasps, hand covering her mouth to try and block the smell out and keep her nausea at bay. 

     “What the hell  _ is that _ , Regina,” the blond demands, pointing at the monstrosity. 

     “Her wings,” she replies, stepping closer, taking in the jagged clippings partially buried into soil--luminescent fungi growing all around it. “She clipped them.”

     “What?” The Sheriff shakes her head, trying to piece their revelation together. “Wait. Are you...are you saying she trimmed off her wings--like her magical wings--in order to...draw and use the magic from them?”

     She nods, head bobbing up and down rapidly.

     Unwilling, but needing to be sure, she approaches the other potted plants and removes the bags covering them as well, revealing more clippings and--even worse--a few fully formed glowing pods.

     “What are those,” Emma inquires with a building dread that matches her own.

     “Fairies,” she replies with a whisper, fascinated and terrified all in the same breath. “Not all magical creatures reproduce the same way. Some, like the nuns and the dwarves, must be brought into existence by magical means.” She wets her parched lips, resisting the urge to reach out and touch one. “Because magia is so unstable here, Blue obviously wasn’t able to use it to fuel a much more...natural approach to increasing their horde.”

     “So...she mutilated herself to...birth some new fairies?” 

     “Yes.”

     “I think I’m going to be sick.”

     She echoes Emma’s sentiment, throat constricting with the constant effort to keep the bile rising in her stomach back. Self mutilation, on this level, hasn’t been practiced in eons for good reason. Magic is an internal essence. It is something most are born with. Extracting it with minor means, like a poked finger or slit palm, is hardly damaging. But tearing it out of yourself, physically....is borderline psychotic.

_      I always knew that Reul Ghorm was crazy, but this... _

_      This is madness. _

     “Do you feel that,” the blond suddenly asks.

     Standing, turning away from the growing magical sprouts, she tilts her head curiously at the other woman.

     “A draft,” she explains, moving around the workbench and shelves, looking for its source.

     Turning in a semicircle, she spots a large cupboard against the far wall, and her eyes narrow in suspicion. Pointing silently towards it, Emma catches her meaning and approaches the weathered double doors bound by a padlock.

 

*****

 

**_Blue’s Secret_ **

 

     “Come. Hurry,” she demands, ushering the two boys down the winding tunnel she has kept hidden from them for over a week now. 

     While they were indisposed their first few days here in the lower chambers of a buried castle, she had been painstakingly carving into the bedrock, digging with what little magic she has, until she could tap into the cavernous network Baelfire had found below most of Storybrooke.

     Now, urging them onward, she’s desperate to move them to a more secure location until the time comes to take them home.

     All lost boys, after all, have a safe place with her.

     An island, far far away, filled with wonders and merriment. It’s not perfect. It has it’s darkness, but it’s manageable, and far more pleasant than any other realm could ever offer them.

     Rumpelstiltskin's son should know that more than anyone.

     She had left him there centuries ago. How he ended up in this land, is beyond her.

_      Perhaps the curse deposited him here as well? _

     It hadn’t been part of the deal.

     But then again, the Dark One has a way with words and manipulation. For all she knows, Baelfire has been an integral piece of this disaster from the start. Maybe Regina brought him as a bargaining chip. The Queen had long lost any respect for her former mentor. They’ve been playing games with one another since their falling out.

     And this poor man.

     This poor child

     Has been caught in the crossfire of his father’s constant misdeeds.

     “Where are we going,” asks the freckled face boy behind the Dark One’s son. His once vibrant jovial blue eyes now tinted with fear and sadness.

     “Somewhere safe,” she assures, though she doesn’t actually have a back up plan.

     Nova has thrown her entire work into chaos.

     She’s hoping, with faith, that a solution will come to her once they are distanced enough from any impending intrusion. There was a cabin once, she had spotted while out on a hike, deep in the forest on the edge of town. Perhaps there, they will find the safe haven she is looking for. 

 

*****

 

**_The Workshop_ **

 

     “I don’t know about you, but the only time I ever padlock a cabinet is when I’m keeping something hidden within,” says Emma, fiddling with the silver device. Flipping it around, checking its markings, trying to recall how many versions of these she has picked in her lifetime.

_      Once a thief... _

     With a smirk, Regina hovers nearby, shifting restlessly on her feet. “I prefer blood magic myself. Being as I have no family left in this realm besides Henry, it’s practically impenetrable.”

     Emma’s chest twinges at the reminder of the older brunette’s still fresh loss.

     She wishes things had ended differently. But Cora had long put that entire event into motion. There was nothing they could have done, Maleficent assured, to stop the process once set into motion.

     Pulling out her tool kit once more, she finds the right sized picks, and slowly inserts them into the key slot of th pad--using her lifted knee to hold it steady while she moves and presses with just the right amount of pressure against the tumblers. A quick set skeleton key would be more preferable, but they don’t really have time for that.

     With a few more attempts, she’s able to pop the lock without resorting to the bolt cutters in the trunk of the cruiser. Dropping the old device to the floor of the shop, she takes a steadying breath--meeting Regina’s impatient gaze--and yanks the doors to the cupboard open.

     What greets them, is drafty darkness.

     “Well,” she rasps, eyeing the impending descent. “At least there’s no Native in here so far.”

     Regina purses her lips, tilting her head slightly, completely clueless to her joke.

     “Y’know,” she gestures with with a quirk of her lips, “the Indian in the Cupboard?”

     She gets a raised brow.

     And that’s all.

     “Seriously,” she gripes, dismayed. “Did you never read it to Henry? Or see the movie?”

     “No,” the brunette replies, and Emma sighs, stepping back.

     “Fine, let’s just,” she motions into the blackness, “find out where this goes.”

_      Missed opportunity, your Majesty.  _

_      I can be funny too. _

     Removing a small pocket light from an inside coat pocket, Emma tries to shine it into the opening, but it barely reaches more than a foot. With a  _ ‘wooshing’ _ sound to her right, the void is suddenly illuminated enough to reveal a set of stairs going down. 

     “Great,” she croaks, eyes narrowing at the cocky grin on Regina’s face as she moves forward, boots hitting the first step, fireball in hand.

     She deeply resist the urge to pout as she follows the older woman down into the narrowing darkness. Each step leading them further and further below the depths of the convent. She had no clue such a thing existed here, and by the pensive look on the former Mayor’s face, neither did she.

     “Anything seem familiar,” she asks, wondering if this too came from the Enchanted Forest like almost everything else that isn’t above ground.

     “Not really,” mutters Regina, fingers tracing lightly against damp rock. “But the stone work is definitely that of a castle. Perhaps one from our land brought here as part of the curse.” She glances at Emma, chocolate pools reflecting burning specks of red and yellow. “Who knows how many secrets Rumple stored away in his curse.”

     Shaking her head, not even wanting to think about it, she nods to a distant set of bars that gives them the first sign of activity in a dozen odd minutes or so. “I guess that makes this the dungeons then.”

     Spotting the jail, Regina raises a inquisitive brow, moving quickly towards the rusted heavy barricade. Eyes roaming, examining the piece, she pushes it slightly to let it bang against a far wall--the loud crashing sound echoing deafeningly around them, making her jump.  

     “A confinement cell,” she former Queen corrects, moving into the small double cot room. “Not meant for long periods of detainment.”

     “How fortunate for those within,” she mutters, feeling the hairs on her arms raise up in discomfort.

     Prison is something that never really leaves you, no matter how long it’s been since you were set free. The rigid schedule. The isolation. The completely different social structure within four chambered walls compared to the outside world.

     It’s an environment all its own.

     And she still carries the scars from her time served.

     Hearing Regina clear her throat to gain her attention, she lifts her eyes from the door, and sees the brunette motion towards one of the surprisingly clean beds. There, lying haphazardly open as if dropped by chance, is a small black wallet.

     Pulling out a pen, not wanting to contaminate any further evidence, she slowly reaches forward, flipping the leather square over while asking, “You think this belongs to our missing stranger? Or Pinocchio?”

     “I assume as much, yes,” her Majesty replies, looking down, turning her head to read the name on the ID facing up at her.

     Emma shifts her gaze to it as well.

     Frowning as a ringing begins in her ears, the letters of the wallet owner’s name piecing themselves together in her mind like a spell coming to life.

     It takes only a few heartbeats--and one gut punching sensation--for her breath to leave her, and everything start spinning.

     “No,” she gasps, jumping back like she’s been struck, sweat breaking out across her skin.

_      It can’t be! _

_      NO! _

 

     Disturbed at Emma’s panicked response, Regina reaches out to steady her, calling her name as the younger woman flinches under her touch--but grasps out wildly, seeking security in the folds of her coat.

     “Emma, what’s wrong,” she asks, confused--eyes darting from the wallet to the blond.

     The Sheriff shakes her head back and forth in distress, tears welling in her eyes at the same time her nostrils start to flare and the lines of her face begin to harden with building fury.

     She can feel the Savior’s magic flaring--arching like a beast stirred by the scent of danger.

     “Emma!” She grips the blond, trying to pull her out of her distressed state. “Talk to me!”

     Stormy hazel eyes flicker from the wallet to her face, then back again, before pink lips part in shuddering--heaving--breaths, and strangle out, “Neal Cassidy. He’s the stranger!”

     She nods.

     “Ok. Yes, I know. Ruby told me. It was on that slip I gave you.”

     Emma just rocks her head back and forth, a tear slipping down her cheek, pulling at Regina’s heart strings. “You don’t understand,” the blond croaks, meeting her perplexed gaze with compounding fear. “Neal Cassidy isn’t a stranger. Not to me. Not to you!”

     She shakes her. Frustrated. Bewildered. Frightened.

     “To me? Emma, what do you mean? Who the hell is Neal Cassidy?”

     Sniffling, jaw flexing with a torrent of rage and hurt, the blonde replies with sickening dread, “Henry’s father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Neal gets to be exposed! At least, to Emma and Regina, two of the four people it matters the most to.
> 
> And so does Blue's multiple secrets! Are you disturbed? Disgusted? Intrigued? I hope all the above ;).
> 
> Man, I cannot wait to see what happens next. Like, everyone is kind of running at one another in bumper cars, and you don't know who is going to hit into who first, but it's going to be a wonderful disaster!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this after my delayed post. Let's cross fingers that's the last cold I catch for awhile.


	56. The Paths We Take pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! It's not super long, but not super short. A perfect post to keep things flowing :).
> 
> On to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

**_The Convent_ **

 

     “YOU said he didn’t know,” shouts Regina, racing up the steps of the damp tunnel, chest rising, eyes wild in panic--Emma hot on her heels.

     “He DOESN’T,” the blonde yells back, her distress expanding along with the brunette’s.

     Their tethered magic is swirling--tugging at their senses--buzzing at their insides and causing static charge responses across the sweat starting to bead along their skin. The sparks of erratic emotions fizzing in the air are driving them into a mutual frenzy.

     “Then how the hell is he HERE?”

_      Truly, can fate be anymore cruel? _

_      How?! How am I going through this, yet again?! _

_      Will Henry ever just be mine?! _

     Her relationship with her son is finally starting to get back to a sense of normalcy! No more lies. No more sneaking off. No more open--hurtful--distrust and wariness. They’ve been coping, talking, building. Hell, even Emma has become a more tangible part of their little family unit. She’s _(begrudgingly so)_ earned it. Proven herself--that the words she said the day Henry brought her to Storybrooke were true.

     She’s not here to take him away.

     Not after finding her own parents, and the story behind where she comes from.

     But now...after this revelation?

    “I DON’T KNOW,” the Sheriff practically screams, arms flailing as they push through the cupboard--the doors slamming so hard against the walls of the workshop that the wood groans from the violent ricochet.

     Everything is burning.

     The air she’s desperately trying to pull in through her nose. Her eyes--tears glossing over them, slightly blurring her vision. Her clothes against her skin. The soles of her feet from running up the flight of stairs in boots not meant for such an act.

_      ‘Breath, Regina, breath’ _ , she hears Mal’s voice like a faint whisper from distant memories.

     Sucking in gulping breaths, hands going to her hips, she paces the small space--Emma mimicking her with frustrated fingers running through her tangled blond locks. She wets her dry lips, heart pounding in her chest. It’s like the closet at the hospital all over again.

     The breath in her stutters in a sucker punch to the gut.

_      No! _

_      NO! I refuse to repeat that, EVER again! _

     Swallowing around the tightness in her throat, she reaches for Emma as the blonde had that day. Stopping her in passing with the brush of her fingertips against the leather of a tense forearm, drawing stormy green eyes up from the floor of the small hovel.

     “Does Henry know,” she inquires softly, words cracking under the chaos building between them. “Does he know about his father?”

_      Assure me,  _ she thinks secretly in the deepest recess of her mind _. Give me solidarity that our son is going to remain...ours. _

     For a second, the lines of the Savior’s face widen in fear--heartache flickering over her sharp features. Then, with a sharp breath sucked in, her features crumble with something staggering.

     Regret.

     “Not the truth,” she admits, sentence rasped in conflicting anguish.

     Regina bites down on the surprise at Emma’s admittance to lying to their son, and the ping of pain she feels for mother and child.

     “I couldn’t tell him.” The blonde shakes her head, eyes sweeping, unable to look at her. “Neal Cassidy is...was, the worst mistake I have ever made.” She sniffles, moving her gaze back to the floor under their heels. “Even if it gave us Henry.”

     She pulls in a deep breath. Then another. Mistakes, especially ones like this, are something she’s intimately familiar with.

_      What are we going to do? _

     Their choice in this moment will change everything.

_      Do we tell Henry about his father, revealing Emma’s deceit? Or do we keep the stranger’s connection to him a buried secret between us? He IS ours. Mine more so than anyone’s. I raised him. Nurtured him. Guided him. Been everything he has ever wanted or needed in the last ten years.  _

_      And yet...he was the one who sought out the woman before me... _

     Her shoulders sag with the weight of decision.

     The younger woman’s head snaps up at the unconscious movement, forest orbs flickering, trying to guess her thoughts. Eyes so like her mother. Nose that is definitely her father’s. Currently unsteady, but powerful build, all earned by her own accord.

_      Emma. _

     A root permanently knotted in her twisted history.

     Twenty eight years aside, they were always going to meet--since the day she had saved Snow White. A thousand different storylines could play out, and she is certain--no matter the characters involved--that they were destined. Entwined by action. Carved by fate. Birthed into existence by ancient gods who alone know what the future has foretold.

     “We can’t make this go away, can we.”

     The quiet statement is spoken not by her.

     But it mirrors the direction her thoughts have taken.

     “I think there has been enough lies and murder as of late,” she whispers morosely, meeting the sorrowful gaze just inches from her own.

     Emma nods, and Regina can already feel her walls going up--shielding herself from the inevitable downfall between her and their son. She sympathizes. A month ago she would have revelled in this potential wedge.

     But not now.

     “Call your mother,” she sighs, glancing around them, reminding herself why they had come here in the first place. “Tell her what we’ve found.” Her eyes hold the blonde’s for a beat. “Everything.” Emma nods in understanding. “And that we’ll return shortly after a quick stop.”

     Pulling out her phone, fingers trembling like her voice, the Sheriff asks, “Where are we going?”

     “To Rumple’s shop.” She narrows her stare on one of the potted plants. Mind shifting focus to the larger situation at hand. “He has something we need.”

     Emma doesn’t question about what.

     She just presses her phone to her ear, turns her back on her--silently requesting a bit of privacy for the conversation about to go down--and answers her mother with a wavering ‘Hey MM’.

     Regina steps back to the other side of the shop. Bending slightly to look out one of the dirty windows, spotting a few fairies here and there going about the grounds of the convent. Oblivious.

     She shakes her head slightly.

_      Woe is a tale untold, _ she thinks--mind drifting across all she can recall on the history of fairies. Mother Superior. Blue. The Blue Star. Reul Ghorm. They are all one woman. One ancient creature that has been encountered by every person in this town--including a once very human Rumpelstiltskin.

     She’s equally benevolent as she is manipulative.     

     Powerful, yet limited in her access to it.

     Driven, but also cautious.

     A leader by station ( _ so it appears _ )--yet incapable of truly guiding those within her fold.

     This fairy with sharp eyes and a petite frame is an unraveling mystery...and Regina worries--fears--that once all is exposed, the worlds as they know them...will never be the same.

 

*****

 

**_Forest of Storybrooke_ **

 

     “You must keep up,” Reul demands of the youngest charge, pausing in her haste to urge him along faster.

     “But I’m tired,” whines the freckle-face child, even as he picks up his pace so he’s only a step behind the older man ahead of him.

     “I know,” she tries to sooth, returning her attention to the forest around them. “Not much further, I promise.”

     Her eyes search the woodland for the path that will lead out of the deep ravine they had exited the tunnel into. Their crossing over the rapidly moving stream dividing it from the rest of the landscape had been treacherous, each of them slipping on well worn rocks, testing their fragility against the currents.

     The effort had been exhausting.

     She had felt the urge to use magic well up inside of her. Itching at her fingertips, clawing at the trimmed base of her wings. Her skin was humming with the effort to resist. To hold back on her reserves. There was no telling what else they may encounter on their way to the cabin, and she could not risk the expense.

     So here they travel onward, weary and damp, running from an impending uncertainty.

     Movement on her peripheral catches her attention, and she glances to her right, spotting Baelfire shifting off the rocky formations they’ve been trekking across to lean against a nearby tree.

     “We have no time to rest,” she reminds him, stepping his way, the red headed child stopping mid-walk behind them.

     But Rumple’s son just shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head gently. “The kid needs a break,” he argues, gesturing to the boy. “And so do I.”

     Her spine stiffens at the defiance.

     But she holds her tongue.

     “Just for a bit,” she concedes with a sigh. Though it leaves her feeling frantic. She can’t rest herself.

_      Not now. Not yet. _

     Nose twitching as the child takes up a spot beside Baelfire, she keeps her gaze sweeping, searching for their way out. Night is quickly approaching. The last thing she wants is to be lost in the forest of Storybrooke with two humans in her care.

     This town, this place, is as terrifying in the night as it can be in the daylight. Monsters, both known and unknown, roam and lurk within forgotten shadows. Hunting. Longing for that which they need to survive.

     She has no desire to be caught off guard again.

     To be cornered, like a scared little bird, by demons far greater than her own.

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke Hospital_ **

 

     “Yeah, Snow, I got it,” David says into his phone, reaching up with lean fingers to run them through his cropped hair. “Tell Emma not to worry. Things will work out in the end.” He smiles, glancing at the people passing him in the hallway outside Hook’s door. “They always do.” He chuckles at her remark, knowing--even unseen--that’s she’s rolling her eyes at him. “I love you too.”

     Ending the call, he takes in a deep calming breath, and checks the time on his cell against the clock on a far wall. The orderly from earlier should be arriving any minute to take the Captain down to the psychiatric ward. Though he knows how badly Emma wanted to lock the pirate up herself, he will take the matter at hand as serious as she has--out of respect not just for his daughter, but for the position they both now hold.

     He’s grateful she asked him to join her. To be her right hand man. Even if it’s a little weird considering their family dynamic and all. Still, in his mind, he can see how--to Emma--he’s just David. The guy once married to Katherine. The man having an affair with her roommate. The amnesiac who kept getting lost in this world.

     He’s not Dad.

     He likely may never be.

     ...And that’s ok...

_      I can live with whatever she needs me to be. So long as I have her, Snow, and Henry, that’s enough for me. _

     Hearing the squeak of shoes on distant linoleum, he looks off to his right and stands as he spots the bearded man from that morning. With a rap to the door, he let’s Killian Jones know that his time is up. No more second chances. No more freedom. No more rum being snuck in by charmed nurses.

     The once famed Captain Hook who pillaged the seas--is no more.

     Now, he’ll just be patient number twenty two.

     “You’re just in time,” he greets the aid.

     The nervous fellow gives him a half smile, and gestures towards the door.

     “Shall we?”

     “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

 

*****

 

**_Belle’s Apartment_ **

 

     Wiping an exhausted hand across her brow, Ruby finishes the last of the new wards Regina had given her on a bathroom window--sealing the librarian's apartment up tighter than Fort Knox. Reaching for her glass of water nearby, she takes a hefty drink, sucking the cool liquid down in hopes it will ease off how drained she feels.

     The older brunette had insisted, should Belle refuse the invite, that the waitress with her werewolf nature would be more than capable of setting up the magical barriers. She had huffed and rolled her eyes, not wanting the weight of the responsibility. The Evil Queen, however, simply stared her down, until she mumbled a ‘Thank You’, and trotted off to the hospital.   

_      Turns out she was right. _

_      Whew! Who knew it could suck the energy right out of you though. _

_      Maybe this is one of the reasons why her and Emma are so close. Kind of hard not to want Regina’s attention, and approval, when she states obvious faith in you like it’s just a matter of fact. _

     Moving back into the center of the apartment with a groan, she rolls her head from side to side, flopping herself down on the slightly uncomfortable couch no longer occupied by one distressed princess. She had chased the younger woman off to nap a couple hours ago, and she had no doubt Belle would not be rising anytime soon.

_      Speaking of, I could use one myself. _

     Letting her heavy eyelids flutter, she sinks further into the cushions beneath her, already feeling her body and consciousness being tugged on by morpheus.

     When her cell phone abruptly goes off.

     Startling her to the point she lands with a resounding ‘thud’ onto the wood floor.

     “Son of a bitch!”

     Ears straining, listening for any sign that she had woke the auburn haired girl, she growls at the offending device, finally answering it on the fifth ring.

     “What’s wrong?” Is the first thing she hears as the call connects.

     “Nothing,” she replies, though the bite in her tone is audible.

     “Why did it take you so long to answer then,” Regina retorts, ignoring her grumpiness.

_      Or doesn’t care. Kind of hard to tell with her half the time. _

     Sighing, pushing herself back up onto her feet. “Because I was halfway to sleep.” Clearing her throat, shaking her irritation off, she asks, “What’s up? What do you need?”

     “Did you place the wards like I instructed you to,” Regina inquires, ignoring her questions for the moment.

     “Yeah,” she nods, eyes glancing around, double checking that the slightly visible waves of magic like mist off a waterfall are holding strong. “I just finished putting them up.”

     “Good,” the older brunette praises. “Then I need you to meet Emma and I at Gold’s shop.” Her spine stiffens at the request. “I’ll explain when you get there.” The woman’s voice suddenly drops in a familiar way, and she feels the hairs on her body rise up. “But I believe you and I are going to have to go _ hunting _ again.”

     She really shouldn’t find the suggestion so appealing.

     She had a pack once. Long ago. It didn’t work out. She’s been a lone wolf ever since, and she really doesn’t need anyone...

     But,  _ damn _ , if Regina doesn’t stir a want in her that makes her secretly wish she  _ was _ her Den Mother.

     “Alright. I’ll meet you there.”

 

*****

 

**_The Convent_ **

 

     “What was that about,” asks Emma, eyeing Regina’s phone curiously as she places it back in her coat pocket while they start across the grassy grounds into downtown.

     “Insurance.”

     She raises a brow.

     “Just in case,” the older brunette adds.

     It doesn’t ease the worry creeping along her neck.

     Finding out that Neal, of all people, is their stranger, already has her emotions in turmoil. Weighing in the stress of breaking into Rumpelstiltskin’s shop, and she feels like she’s going to burst at the seams.

     Anger, hurt, keep squeezing at her rib cage. Tightening her chest, making it hard for her to catch her breath.

_      How? _

_      How the hell is he here? _

     Two years! Two FUCKING years she searched for him. For the ghost of the man she thought she knew...But she found nothing. He vanished, like he’s obviously very skilled at doing, into thin air. As if everything they had been through never mattered.

_      Like I didn’t. _

     And that stung.

     Deep, and so embroiled, it left a gaping wound yet to be filled.

     Love. Real love. The kind her parents talk about. The type she sees when they look at one another. That romantic state of disgusting sappiness...doesn’t exist for her. Not then. Not now. Possibly not ever.

     Not after Neal Cassidy.

     The day they met, was the beginning of the end of any childish hope she had once possessed.   

 

**_Portland, Oregon_ **

**_12.5yrs ago_ **

 

_      The alleyway is not as shadowy as Emma would prefer, especially for such a daring early morning trip. _

_      ‘Play it cool, Swan. You got this.’ _

_      Double checking over her shoulder that she hasn’t been followed--and no one is looking her way--she approaches the parked yellow beetle hidden behind a large brick building as if she owns it, pulling out the metal rod she’s kept up the sleeve of her leather jacket all week. _

_      ‘Nice and easy. Don’t scratch if you can.’ _

_      Slipping the slim jim down between the glass of the car’s door and the metal of the opening frame itself, she makes another quick look about, before yanking up on it swiftly--unlocking the vehicle and sliding in without hesitation. _

_      As soon as her ass hits the driver’s seat, she’s depositing her messenger bag into the passenger bucket beside her--reaching for a screwdriver that punches the ignition (with some literal hard rock knocks) and brings the vehicle to life. _

_      ‘Success! Oh yeah!’ _

_      All in all, thirty seconds have passed, and she feels like she’s just broken a new world record. _

_      ‘You’re a hot one, Swan, and not ‘cause of the car.’ _

_      She smiles at the internal self cheering, head whipping about to check that the coast is clear, blonde hair up in a ponytail swishing side to side. Cheeks lifting, pushing up the black frame glasses she’s wearing, she shifts the car into gear, and--learning forward like an anxious first time driver--starts out of the side street. _

_      Double checking that she’s in the right gear, her hands slide freely along the steering wheel. _

_      Until a shadowy moving presence, and raspy voice, startle her from behind. _

_      “Impressive.” A scruffy man in a green hoodie suddenly sits up in the back seat. “But really,” he gives her an impish smile, dangling something from his raised right hand, “you could’ve just asked me for the keys.” _

_      Her heart pounds in her chest as she gasps loudly in shock, air choking in her lungs. _

_      ‘Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!’ _

_      ‘What do I do, what do I do???’ _

_      Mind racing, she continues moving out onto the roadway, the creepo behind her leaning on the passenger seat, watching her, sensing her panic. _

_      “Just drive. It’s fine,” he urges casually. Not helping in the slightest with the disaster she’s created for herself. _

_      “I just stole your car,” she protests finally, falling into a character she’s played before to hide her panic. “Your life could be in danger!” _

_      ‘Get out of this, Swan, asap!’ _

_      He’s chuckling. Not buying it one bit. _

_      “Neal Cassidy,” he introduces himself, the hood of his jacket sliding back, revealing a mess of brown hair. _

_      “Yeah, I’m not telling you my name,” she immediately replies defensively. _

_      “No.” He’s still smiling, humored, a shit eating grin breaking lines out across his face. “I don’t need it to have you arrested when the robbery’s in progress.” _

_      She rolls her head from side to side with a groan. _

_      ‘Great. Fucking great! He’s a joker.’ _

_      Sighing, she glances at him briefly, trying to keep her eyes on the road. _

_      ‘Trust or don’t trust? Go with your gut, Swan.’ _

_      “Em--Emma. Swan.” _

_      ‘......or not. Idiot!’ _

_      “Good name,” he compliments. _

_      ‘Give me a break.’ _

_      A brief silence falls between them as she tries to gather her wits--still driving, heart up in her throat. He’s just looking around without a care like she’s some taxi driver giving him a lift. _

_      ‘Jesus. Who the hell is this guy?’ _

_      Taking a steadying breath in, she catches his reflection in the rearview mirror. “So,” she starts, pulling his blue-grey eyes back her way, “do you just live in here?” She gestures the interior of the vehicle. “Or were you just waiting for the car to be stolen?” _

_      ‘Because, seriously...’ _

_      “Why don’t I tell you over drinks,” he says, a mischievous glint in his gaze. _

_      Her neck practically snaps at the speed her head turns back, disgust rippling across her face. “Excuse me?” _

_      ‘What in the actual fuck?!’ _

_      “Hey,” he snaps, pointing back to the windshield. “Eyes on the road!” _

_      ‘Shit!’ _

_      She turns just in time to realize they are halfway through a stop sign. _

_      ‘Shit. Shit. Shit!!’ _

_      “I am not having drinks with you,” she grinds out, focusing her attention mostly back on her driving. “You might be a pervert!” _

_      “I might be a pervert,” he concedes with a shrug. Eyes narrowing, he focus intently on her, making the hairs on her neck stand up. “But you’re definitely a car thief.” _

_      “I said I was sorry,” she retorts. Starting to get pissy and tired of this little...whatever.  _

_      “You didn’t, actually,” he counters. _

_      ‘Son of a--’ _

_      She’s just about to tell him she’s had enough of this bullshit, willing to even pull the car over somewhere to do a ditch and run if he’d let her. _

_      But then a sound erupts behind them. _

_      Turning their heads. _

_      And she feels her heart drop from her throat to her gut--red and blue lights swirling as a cruiser sets its sights on the yellow bug. _

_      “Oh…,” Neal groans, burying his face into the sleeve of his hoodie. _

_      “Damn it,” she curses. _

_      ‘What the hell am I going to do now?’ _

_      ‘Fuck. FUCK!’ _

_      “That’s why I said ‘eyes on the road,” he sighs, spiraling her nerves into overdrive. _

_      Hands gripping the wheel so hard she’s sure she’s gonna leave marks, she does the only thing she can. She pulls over. And accepts her fate. _

_      Except something shifts. _

_      Or--more precisely--Neal, whose car this is. Because, one second he’s behind her, and the next he’s muttering, “Screwdriver,” as anxiously as she feels--the officer who has pulled them over approaching--while reaching far enough to replace the tool with a set of keys. _

_      ‘What the hell...?’ _

_      A tap to her window startles her, and she turns, breath stuttering as she shakily comes face to face with the State Cop. Swallowing, giving him a smile, she rolls the window down just far enough for them to make eye contact and talk. _

_      “License and registration,” the gruff, intimidating man, requests without any kind of greeting. _

_      “Hi,” she replies, trying not to let her nerves show. Wondering what to do next. _

_      ‘I don’t have a license! And registration? HA!’ _

_      “Terribly sorry officer,” Neal leans slightly over, offering the cop an apologetic grin, “but this is actually my car. I’m… I’m trying to, uh,” he points towards her, “teach my girlfriend how to drive stick.” _

_      “She’s got a lot to learn,” the officer states. _

_      .....'What?’ _

_      ‘Excuse you!’ _

_      She opens her mouth, about to say something, but a hand on her arm stops her. She glances over at Neal, who just shrugs and replies, “I know. But, you know…women.” _

_      There’s a beat or two where she’s not sure who she’s more angry at. The guy beside her, or the pig at her window. _

_      But then the officer breaks the tension with an, “Alright, I hear you. It’s a warning…this time.” _

_      And suddenly they are both smiling in relief, Neal’s chesire big and broad. “Yeah. Thank you so much.” _

_      Before she can even process what just truly transpired, the cop’s walking back to his car, letting them off the hook. _

_      “What are you, some sort of a misogynist,” she asks the guy who is now moving between the seats--forcing her to toss her bag to the floor--as his backside hits the passenger bucket. _

_      “You’re welcome,” he sighs instead. Checking the rear view, he nods towards the road ahead of them. “Oh, go. We got lucky.” _

_      “We?” She frowns, starting the vehicle with the keys, slowly pulling back into traffic. She keeps shifting her gaze to the man beside her, mind tinkering on thoughts...until something clicks with a rush in her gut and a flutter in her chest. “This isn’t your car either, is it?” She sucks in a deep breath at the revelation. “I stole a stolen car?” _

_      Beside her, Neal offers her a boyish eye wiggle and smile. “Now, how about that drink?” _

 

*****

 

**_Regina’s Mansion_ **

 

     Snow shifts a bit against the doorframe of the living room. Watching as Henry shows Nova one of his video games. Clueless to the changes about to occur in his world once more. Since before she even knew he was her grandson, she’s worried over him. Wondering. Asking,  _ ‘What does he need that is visibly missing in him so?’ _ .

     When Emma came to town, she assumed he was desperately yearning for a connection with the woman who had given birth to him...and then gave him away. Then it seemed more like a matter of safety, and family, once the curse was broken and everything revealed.

     Now...

     “My, you are quite the hovering type, aren’t you?”

     She turns at Maleficent’s voice, unsurprised to find the Dragon eyeing her across the kitchen as she has been Henry. Sea blue gaze intently studying. Pondering.

     “I like to think of it as protective,” she replies, moving back into the white and black room, heading for the stove to make herself a cup of tea.

     The witch of the Forbidden Fortress snorts.

     “Considering who his  _ mothers _ are, the boy couldn’t be safer.”

     The stress on the word ‘mothers’ doesn’t go unnoticed. She chooses to ignore it for the moment, unwilling to indulge the Dragon in her obvious still present affection for Regina...and the infatuation she seems to be developing for her daughter.

     “Just as much as that might keep Henry safe, it also makes him a target.” She stares at the flame licking the bottom of Regina’s ornate kettle--heating its innards from the outside. “The Evil Queen and Savior raising a son together? Not everyone has been kind about that.”    

     She’s heard the rumors and remarks.

     Have loudly objected and defended against quite a few. Which has earned her some distrusting stares. Snow White now siding with the Evil Queen? 

  _Some people can't let the past go._

_I don't blame them, I'm still wary myself. But with everything we've been through...it's time._

     After the abrupt phone call with Emma just a bit ago, however, she’s got an unsettling feeling in her gut that this Neal Cassidy isn’t going to make life any easier. Perhaps Maleficent is right. She does hover. It’s all she feels like she can do at the moment.

     But if push comes to shove, she’ll protect this family Henry has gained--that they all have--no matter the cost.

     She once believed, long ago, when the world seemed simpler through her childish eyes, that her and Regina were destined to be family. The good, brave, strong woman who had saved her--who had stolen her youthful heart--was in one way or another always going to be apart of her existence.

     Then the cruelty of reality had ripped them apart. Encouraging them to lash out with their hurt and longing against one another again and again...until Regina yanked them all away to this land. Full of supposed despair...but instead, surprisingly _(she's slowly realizing)_ , offering them all a second chance at hope and possibilities.

     “Good thing they have us,” Maleficent cuts in to her thoughts. Her own tone reflective, but assured.

     She glances over at the reformed ‘villain’ and nods. “Yes. They do.”

 

*****

 

**_Storybrooke Hospital_ **

 

     He’s not exactly comfortable walking Hook down the stairwell of the hospital--the orderly in front of them, him at the pirate’s back. Cuffing a one handed man isn’t the easiest thing, especially since he’s not familiar with the makeshift grip waist belt Emma had rigged up to use. He would have much preferred the old weighted ball and chain, simply so Killian Jones can’t do a runner on him.

     But that’s not this world.

     “You will have the option of three meals a day, provided by the hospital cafeteria of course,” Ingleton was explaining to the no good Captain, using the card Regina had given to access the secret passage to the psychiatric ward. “As well as the chance to shower regularly and, depending upon behavior, the opportunity for work detail.” The bearded man glances back at the pirate as they reach another door at the bottom of the winding steps. “I-its not much. But it’s better than what you’re use to, I-I’m sure.”

     “You can explain the rest once he’s in his new cell,” he interrupts, nodding towards the door--one hand on the gun at his hip, the other holding Hook by the chain at his back.

     His skin is starting to itch, a tingling letting him know that something about this area of the cement structure is  _ off _ .

     Gripping Killian Jones just a little bit tighter, he feels a pressure in his chest constrict  more instead of relaxing as the key card on the door lights up green--unlocking the large metal barrier with a  _ ‘snick’ _ , granting them entry into the lower depths of the sterile building.

     Catching a sudden movement just ahead, he pauses, yanking Hook up short, until he hears Ingleton greet a nurse sitting stiffly at a desk adjacent to a long corridor.

     “Good evening, Ratched, you’re looking just as lovely today as always.”

     The woman smiles at the compliment, steely eyes flickering from the pirate to him and back.

     “I take it this is the new charge?” Her voice sends a shiver down his spine. He swears he’s heard it before, but he doesn’t recognize the woman.

     Ingleton nods. “Yes. Is everything ready like we discussed?”

     She gives the aid another appraising stare, before inclining with her head down the too brightly lit hallway. “Right that way. Everything is as you requested.”

     “Excellent,” the orderly beams, hands clasping together. Turning back towards them, his eyes settle on the Captain for a moment, before shifting to him. “Follow me.”

_      Good. Let’s get this over with. _

     Offering the icy nurse a half smile, he follows the man down the corridor, twisting and turning like in a maze. His hands are starting to sweat. The hairs on his neck standing up. They haven’t come across anyone else yet, but the notion--the observation alone that there are numbers of people down here, grip his gut with a firm unease.

     When they had first learned about this place in discussing Hook’s punishment, they had protested its existence. Unable to accept, or even understand the need for it. Then Regina began listing off names. Ones that haunt you with horrific tales of murder and deceit. Reminding them that not everyone  _ wants _ to be redeemed, and there are some people truly far worse than the Dark One to keep in account.

_Like a_  ward _of the damned._

     Sucking in a deep breath, he tries to shake off his nerves, unwilling to let himself get so rattled. Coming around one more bend, they finally find themselves in a dead end with just a few doors on either side.

     “This is it,” says Ingleton, stopping just a foot away from one slotted frame on his left.

     “Lovely,” Hook rasps--his first words in weeks.

     The brogue disturbs him more than it should.

     So he pulls the smaller man back against him, lips close to his ear, and reminds him, “Best get use to it. This is your new home.”

     He feels the pirate tense beneath his hands, but he doesn’t care. As soon as the orderly unlocks the door, he’s pushing the man forward the same time his one hand is going for the keys to undo his cuffs. The faster this is done and over with, the better.

     “Now be a good boy,” he says to the scruffy bloke, reaching around to undo one link. “And go have a seat on your nice new bed.”

_      There. Nothing to worry about. _

     As he’s sliding the key into the other claps, something shifts behind him. For a moment, he thinks it’s the orderly. Until an unfamiliar shadow races a sense of dread down his spine. 

_      What the...? _

     He never gets the chance to turn around.

     Before he can figure out who the new presence is, he feels a vice like grip on his shoulder, and then the sharp prick of a needle against his neck.

_      Son of a...! _

     He reflexively pushes back as he cries out, sending whoever his attacker is stumbling backward. He tries to turn around, but another hand reaches out--yanking him forward by the folds of his jacket--and he goes crashing into a nearby end table.

     His world is spinning, his mind going fuzzy, a heavy weighted pressure pushing him down like he’s drowning. Groggily, he tries to get up off his knees, to gather himself. But then there is a voice in his ear, low and dark, whispering something that makes his heart contract with cold fear.

     “Sorry mate, but--alas--I just can’t stay.” Hook’s blob like form looms. “Be sure to give Emma a kiss goodbye for me...eh, actually. On second thought, I think I’ll just do that me self.”

     And then he’s falling, a consuming blackness pulling him into nightmarish depths that leaves him screaming in his own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness. David walked right into that one. Then again, had it been Emma, I'm not sure things would have gone any better, though I think she never would have turned her back on Ratched.
> 
> I love seeing Regina and Emma opening up to one another. Reaching out even as they are lashing out. Starting to build this foundation of 'we are Henry's mothers'. I believe they had started accepting that in season one, and since I removed any kind of betrayal by Cora's manipulation, I think that development is going to rapidly build forward--especially with Neal Cassidy's presence.
> 
> I'm torn with Blue. I see her as this nasty twisted creature, but at the same time, you understand her yearning to do the right thing. She's not human, and that is what I have to keep telling myself when writing her. She wants what is best for them, as well as all things she has created. But her perspective doesn't carry any kind of human nature.
> 
> The idea of Ruby, Regina, and Emma out in the woods hunting Blue and the others down is just...Gods that's a yummy visual. And Ruby having that yearning for a pack is going to push her forward into opening up, into us diving more into her tale later on, and in getting her set on a quest of finding where she needs to be.
> 
> Snow and Maleficent was unexpected. But it plays really, really well with the scenes around it. Reminding us that they are not spectators less we forget what happened with Cora. These are mother bear personalities who will protect their ideal sense of family, no matter what. I like that. I like it a lot.


	57. The Paths We Take pt4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the Gods, I didn't know if I was going to find a breaking point in all of this! I was worried this would end up being one massive chapter, but thankfully, I was able to cut events short (I'm sorry for the dramatic cliffhanger) because everything coming next is going to be a whirlwind of events. The two week breather is over for these characters. 
> 
> So, on to the story!

**_Storybrooke_ **

 

**_Belle’s Apartment_ **

 

     The minute the interior door to her residence closes, Belle is pushing herself up with a painful groan. Teeth grinding together, breath leaving her in exerting pants. She manages to get into a sitting position with trembling effort--shoulders firmly pressed against the headboard of her barely used bed. Sighing, taking a few moments to settle herself, she catches a slight whiff of a lingering scent--wild berries with burnt sage, and lavender. It’s an oddly comforting mixture that is definitely part Ruby’s natural elemental magic, and something else...something...that curiously reminds her of her time at Regina’s castle.

_Strange..._

     Wrinkling her nose at the unexpected combination, she blinks the last vestiges of sleep away--knowing, though, that the pill she’s due to take in an hour, will return her to a semi-groggy state.

_I could hold off on that, just for a bit._

     Gathering her comforter more securely around her lap, she leans her head back wearily and stares out her small bedroom window at fading daylight--the much needed rest she required having been fitful at best. Too many dark images plague her mind, tearing at her heart and soul. Some are familiar demons that have tormented her subconscious since childhood. Others...are new found fears she has collected since the day _he_ showed up at her father’s castle.

     “Rumple,” she murmurs reflexively.

_Oh, my dear, dear tortured man!_

     She knows, rationally, that she should be upset with him. That Hook’s violent attack was a side effect of a long standing feud. That--as Ruby no doubt sees it--he is to blame for her current condition.

     Yet...she cannot.

     Not with the way he had held her. The pain and sorrow that had crumbled his chiseled face. The terror she had felt ripple through him at her wounded state.

     Monster--Rumpelstiltskin may be.

     But heartless, he most definitely is not.

     And that’s what she can’t let go of.

     She can’t walk away, even more so now, from the man inside the beast. She understands the magic that controls him. The demon that picks and pulls apart his insecurities. The one that crushes any kind of sensible ease. He had taken on the curse of the Dark One thinking power would help him save his son. But in the end, it only drove him away.

     Just as it is trying to do with her now.

 _I won’t let it win, however. Not this time._ She shakes her head. _Magic is but a tool. Know it, know all about how t’ use it, and you can overcome its wicked desires._

     “And I must start now.” Chest tightening--not with discomfort--but a pulse of resolution, she turns and reaches for the cell phone resting on her nightstand.

     The device is still foreign but fascinating to her. The notion, that without paper or carrier, she can connect with anyone at any distance, is a magnificent feat. Opening its contact list, she searches for the one she never thought she would use.

     Pressing the call button, she listens as it rings only once, before she’s able to rasp, “It’s me. I need your help.” She pauses for a breath. “Please?”

 

*****

 

**_Outskirts of Storybrooke_ **

 

     Night is descending.

     The trees are stretching their shadows, sinking into black silhouettes that fill him with trepidation. A chill has settled in the air, coating his red curls and thin jacket with a slight dampness he can’t shake.

     “How much further?” He hates to whine. Hates to sound so childish. But his feet hurt. He’s starting to feel cold. And he’s just so, so, tired.

     “Not much,” Blue replies, voice strained. Reaching another small incline, she points off to an oblong shape in the distance. “See that? It’s a hunter’s cabin. Abandoned. We will be resting there for the time being.”

     “And then what,” asks the scruffy man trailing behind him, hands tucked into his armpits. “Huh, Blue? Then what are you going to do with us?”

     “Return you.” The fairy pulls her cloak tighter around her petite frame. “Neither of you were suppose to be here in the first place.” Eyes flickering around them warily. “But I will fix it, and take you to a land where no one can ever hurt you again.”

     He raises his gaze to Blue, then Balefire, alarmed by the notion of being taken away from his papa once more. “What? No! I thought I was going home! You promised!”

     The elder woman sighs in exasperation as the man snorts, shaking his head. “Typical trickster bugs.” His voice carries a hard edge with it. “You make it sound like paradise.” Lifting his chin, glaring at Blue. “But last I saw, it was a nightmare.”

     “Then I will fix it!”

     The outburst is startling. Stopping them in their tracks.

     Whirling around--frazzled--the petite brunette exclaims, “This land is not ours,” with her hands trembling at her sides. “We do NOT belong here! Anything you may have wanted, or needed, will only come apart in the end!” She takes a pleading step forward, unconsciously encouraging him to move a wary step back. “Can you not see? Can’t you feel the price this _horrible_ curse has cost us all?” She gestures wildly. “Look at what you have become! What you have lost!”

     He lowers his head, a rush of regret hitting him so hard he has to bite his lower lip to keep it from visibly wobbling. His eyes fill with pressing tears, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

_Papa._

     That’s all _he_ wants.

     To see his father again. To be held and comforted. To smell that familiar scent of wood dust and ground paint. He knows he’s going to be disappointed in him. Knows how much he has sacrificed. How many things he’s done wrong. But to be together again...after everything...doesn’t that matter in the end?

_Isn’t family and love worth it all?_

     Anger swelling in him, curling his tiny hands into fists, he raises his head and stares down the woman who made him human. “Well I’m not going with you! You can’t make me! I’m not your puppet anymore!”

     Before either adult can stop him, he’s turning--the toes of his boots digging into the soft earth--and dashing off into the dense woods, the cries of Blue and Balefire echoing behind him.

     “RUN, PINOCCHIO, RUN!”

     “NO! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK PINOCCHIO!”

 

*****

 

**_Hospital_ **

 

     Snow hits the doors to the emergency room without breaking stride--Nova hot on her heels--wringing her hands anxiously. Her manic stare bounces from bed to bed, nurse to nurse, looking for--

     “David,” she breaths, chest constricting at the sight of her husband laying propped up in a corner--IV in his arm, an ice pack cushioned atop his head. It’s too eerily reminiscent of whenn he first awoke from the curse.

     “Snow,” he sighs, blue gaze a mix of bleary painfulness.

     She’s beside him in an instant,--looking him over--making sure he’s alright. “What happened?”

     The question moves from him, to the nurse tending his head wound.

_What the hell went wrong?_

     He opens his mouth to respond, but hisses when the redhead between his bed and IV rack pokes at the visible knot sprouting up from his noggin.

     “He’ll have to tell ya,” an Irish brogue informs, green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Was talkin’ nothin’ but gibberish when one of the wards found him a few floors down.”

     Shifting her hazel stare back to Charming, her face pinches in building worry.

     Shrugging a shoulder while trying to remain still so the nurse can finish her task, David simply replies, “I got ambushed.”

_What?_

     Her fine brow furrows.

     “Hook?” Concern instantly starts shifting to Fury. _That son of a Pirate! I’ll cut off his other hand!_

     He nods, eyes flickering briefly to Nova who offers him a sympathetic smile. “Someone,” he groans in misery, “I’m not sure who, snuck up on me from behind.” He glances at the nurse, wariness drifting across his handsome features. “I, uh...before I could even react, they were sticking a needle in my neck.” He turns just enough for her to see the inflamed mark. “And then I was crashing to the ground.”

     She narrows her gaze critically at the hospital staffer.

_Was it someone here? Or one of Hook’s lackeys in disguise?_

     “It wasn’t me! I swear!” The redhead, sensing the suspicion, raises her hands appeasingly. “Just got on shift ‘bout ten minutes ago.”

 _This isn’t good._ Eyes darting around them, paranoia prickling across her spine, she opens her mouth to retort.

     But is interrupted by the fairy on her other side.

     “Do we know what was used? Could it be toxic,” Nova questions.

_Shit! I didn’t even think about that._

     Before she can start belting out orders, the nurse--name tag reading Aideen--shrugs. “Hard t’ say. We’re running blood work now, but I’m bettin’ he just got whammied by a high dosin’ tranquilizer.”

 _Oh thank the Gods,_ she breaths in silent relief.

     “When can he leave then?”

     “As soon as his test results come back.” The other woman settles a new ice pack in place and pats Charming on the shoulder. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

     “Who’s in charge? Is it Whale?” She doesn’t want David here any longer than necessary. Obviously SOMEONE can’t be trusted.

     David opens his mouth to protest even the notion of her dealing with the Doctor, but she raises a hand to silence him. In no mood, at the moment, to put up with his jealousy issues.

     Aideen shakes her head, however, handling a discarded bag of magnesium sulfate. “Not at th’ moment. He stepped out to deal with a private matter. Doctor Kawai is fillin’ in fer now.”

 _Damn._ Frowning, she nods her understanding, and watches--impatiently--as the woman takes her leave to attend others.

 _It’s like being back in the Enchanted Forest all over again._ She rubs at the headache trying to build behind her eyes. _Constantly looking over our shoulders. Wondering what members of the castle are loyal, and who might be a spy._

     She’s about to express to David her dislike of his new position, when he asks instead, “Where’s Emma,” derailing her thoughts.

     “Oh. Um, she’s with Regina still,” her and Nova reply, shooting each other equal apprehensive looks. Clearing her throat, she meets David’s worried gaze. “They have some...unfinished business to attend to.”

     The lines of his face draw down further in unease. “Who’s taking care of Henry then?”

 

*****

 

**_Regina’s Mansion_ **

 

     “Do you think David’s alright?” Henry bites at the corner of his lower lip, a nervous habit no doubt learned from his brunette mother.

     “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Maleficent replies, delicately flipping the next page over in their ‘comic’ book perusal. She noticed, in the last two weeks, that the young prince often turns to these stories for guidance. A coping mechanism to help him deal with the new reality of his altered world.

     So here they sit.

     Waiting. Hoping. That her calm assurance isn’t a lie.

     “I’m not surprised Hook tried to escape,” he continues, absorbing the illustrations before them, brow pinched.

     “Oh?” Her own eyes glance over the strong female warrior in a dark cloak. Her face hidden. Her curves accentuated.

_I wonder if this ‘Raven’ character is based off of anyone from the old land. Her magical capabilities are distinctly archaic and familiar._

     Henry shakes his head. “Yeah. I mean,” his nose wrinkles, “he _is_ a pirate, and they’re not exactly the kind of people you can trust, y’know?”

     She hums in agreement.

     Never fond of Killian Jones herself.

     But he has his uses...and one could argue she’s not the most trustworthy individual either.

     “He did help me though,” the boy adds, watching as she flips the next page. “When Cora,” he says her name softly, as if his absent parent might hear him, “pretended to be my mom and kidnapped me.”

     She shifts her blue orbs towards him, curious as to what exactly Hook had done. Gods know Regina would have surely falayed the vermin had any harm come to the young prince during that unnecessary ordeal.

     Digging into his pocket, Henry produces a small black stone she hasn’t seen or used in a very long time--but is definitely accustomed to.

_My my, helpful man indeed._

     Extending out hesitantly, she taps its smooth surface. “The mangy pirate gave that to you, did he?”

     The boy nods, turning the stone over and over in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know what it does, exactly, but I think...,” he chews thoughtfully on that lip, eyes unfocused on a distant point in the kitchen, “I think it works like a pager.”

     “A pager?” She sounds the word out.

     “Yeah.” He clears his throat, and pulls out another comic from the stack they are looking through, one with a man dressed like a ghastly winged bat. “See this guy?” She nods. “He has these little devices that lets him contact someone secretly. You don’t talk through it. It just kind of...buzzes, or lights up in a signal.”

     “Ah.” She smiles, amused and charmed by Henry’s clever mind. “You’re absolutely right. This one,” she explains, nodding towards the stone, “reaches out to your mother, however. Not to the unwashed Captain. It’s a summoning stone.”

     Hazel eyes brighten at the revelation. “Really?” He glances down at the tiny valuable object. “So if I’m in trouble, or I think my mom is, I can just...reach out to her?”

     “Yes. If you hold it tightly, and think of her--picture her in your mind--the stone will always let her know where you are.”

     He wets his bruised lip, head bobbing slowly. “In-in case something bad happens again? Like with Cora?”    

     Reaching out, squeezing his shoulder, locking gazes, she replies, “Exactly like that. No matter where you are, or what may occur, your mother will _always_ be able to find you.”

 

*****

 

**_Outskirts of Storybrooke_ **

 

     Rumpelstiltskin is staring at a map on his wall. Thinking. Plotting. Fingertips coming together again and again on the stubble that covers his chin. Yes, yes, the voices in his head have been trying to decide exactly how and when to take dear ol’ Captain Hook to his grave.

     Should he find his ship--no doubt cloaked somewhere--and sink him with it? It would be quite fun to watch him wiggle, bound to the mast, as he slowly drowns.

     Or, perhaps, he should take his oh so charming nickname to heart and rip the cretin’s own organ out--tearing him limb by limb as a true crocodile would?

     “Hmmm. That would be rather...messy,” he mumbles, wrinkling his nose.

     His hands are still oddly stained, after all, with the Man in the Mirror’s blood. He’s scrubbed and scrubbed, but it won’t come out. Not of his skin...or his mind.

_Sigh._

     There is another option that has been creeping into his scheming over the last hour. One that makes his gut heavy, and his soul _(what’s left of it)_ sore each time he weighs it.

 _Should I go back into town?_ He glances around his disheveled cabin. _Let all this go, turn myself in, and attempt to start afresh like Regina has?_

     Watching her...progress, in the last two weeks is...disconcerting. Storybrooke was to be _his_ chance at happiness. He was to find his boy, make a new life--perhaps even rule--in this little ocean-side hovel.

     “But that hasn’t happened.” His beady eyes shift to the shards of a cracked window in a corner of the living room.

     The Evil Queen out played him.

     “And she did it oh so cleverly well.”

     Really, he should have seen this coming. What’s the point of having a Seer’s gift of sight if nuisances are going to undo all the work he’s put into making things right?

 

**_200+ Years Ago_ **

**_Enchanted Forest_ **

 

_A campfire burns in the middle of a clearing among the tall oaks surrounding his village. He hasn’t been out here in awhile--the woods dense and consuming. Though he no longer finds it frightening, not with the powers of the Dark One brewing beneath his skin, the broken sunlight and fallen leaves still somehow feel...ominous._

_For a moment, he thinks the small campsite abandoned._

_Until a distant shuffling sound catches his attention._

_Glancing up from the rabbit leg roasting over meager flames, he spies the person he’s looking for. “Ah. Come out, deary. No need to hide.”_

_Flowing red locks--surrounding blotchy shades of pink and freckled white skin--peek past the bark of a large tree, before a soft and willowy body swaddled in rags and a cloak follow suit._

_“I’ve been expecting you,” The young Seer--her eye sockets stitched over by flesh--greets in a raspy voice._

_“Yesss, I figured as much.” He smiles, sharp eyes watching every move as she approaches. “You look rather...eh,” he purses his lips, waving his hand, “never mind.”_

_She stares on silently for a moment, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Then she tilts her head ever so slightly, and opens her palms to reveal the eyes missing from her face nestled within. The moment they lock on to him, he feels the air about them change, shifting with spirits of what were--and what could be._

_He resist the instinctive urge to step back._

_“Tell me, Rumpelstiltskin,” the Seer asks, “do you still recall how we first met and why?”_

_He sneers at the sudden reminder of that fateful night. “Every day like it was yesterday.”_

_Her lips quirk in a satisfying grin, and his fingers flex with the urge to wipe it off her face._

_“The burden in which you carry now is no different than it was then,” she states, tilting her head the other way, magic emanating from her hands. “But you missed the path not taken, and you wish to rectify it.” She nods, thoughtfully, to herself. “The past cannot be undone, but from it we can change the future.”_

_“Well, actually I was just--,” he starts to say._

_Like being instantly swept up in a dream-state, the forest lets loose a series of startling pulses like rippling water--swirling in rotating colors--until it all comes to a dizzying stop with him back in his humble home._

_Staring at the past._

_“What is this,” he growls--disoriented--eyes darting between the Seer and his deceased wife Milah who sits, alive and well, sewing. Just as she once had been. “Why are we here?”_

_“Watch and learn, Dark one,” the girl simply replies. “We must revisit the mistakes made before going forward, or we will be doomed to repeat this.”_

_His fingers itch with the desire to reach for his dagger, to end this torment before it can even start. But deep down he knows he needs that which he seeks in order to find Bae. If he loses out to his bloodlust now, he’ll be failing his son all over again._

_‘And I can’t do that. I can’t betray my boy a second time.’_

_Frowning at the knowing girl, he braces himself--resigned--for what’s about to occur. A distant excited voice echoes moments later through the door of the abode, and his gaze shifts from the raven beauty he once loved, to the face of the man he use to be._

_‘To the shadow beneath the darkness.’_

 

_“Milah,” Rumpelstiltskin calls out, entering with a paper in hand. “Milah.” He smiles in greeting, sending a pang of regret through his future self._

_His former wife lifts the cloak she is stitching together, rising to meet him as he bends her way. “I’m nearly finished,” she shows him._

_His smile broadens in approval, worn hands settling fondly on her white blouse covered shoulders. “Oh, you learn quickly.”_

_She chuckles, reaching up with her lips to press against his own. “Well I have a good teacher.”_

_He hums into the kiss, stepping back only once they are both pleased twice more over._

_“So what is it,” Milah asks, returning to her seat. “What brings you home so early?”_

_“My love, my weaving days are behind us,” he declares, unraveling the paper he holds in hand to show his wife what it says. “I’ve been called to the front.”_

_There, in bold colorful lettering it states: ‘Rumpelstiltskin (sic) You have been drafted into the King’s army’._

_“The Ogres War,” Milah gasps, concern filling her blue eyes as they flicker from the paper to him and back. “Oh Rumpel.”_

_He nods eagerly. “I report for training in the morning.”_

_“No,” Milah shakes her head, reaching out for him. “Rumpel, I’ve heard stories. The front – it’s a brutal place.”_

_“Oh, Milah,” he soothes, bending on knee to be level with her. “I-I know, I know. I… I can’t say that I… I won’t be frightened.” Their fingers find each other, entwining. “But… But this is the chance I’ve been waiting for…all my life.” His hopeful eyes shine with pain. “You know I’ve lived under the shadow of my father’s actions for too long now.”_

_Milah grips him firmly, leaning closer. “Just because your father was a coward, it doesn’t mean you are.”_

_“Oh, I know that. As do you. But t’ the world?” He gesture towards the door behind him. “Fighting in this war finally gives me the chance to prove that t’ everyone else.”_

_Milah sighs, shoulders hunching at the weight of decision between them. Silence beats once, then twice, before she gives him a supportive smile. “Alright. Go. Be brave. Fight honorably.”_

_“Oh Gods, I love you,” he beams, pushing forward to kiss her once more._

_“I love you, too.” She strokes his cheek tenderly. “When you return, we can start living the life we’ve always dreamed of.”_

_“Yeah…,” he nods, learning into her touch._

_“We can have a family.” Milah’s eyes gleam with possibility._

_His chin wobbles with emotion. “A family.”_

 

_The memory fades, and he crosses his arms, knowing what comes next._

_Day shifts to night, finding them among familiar men in a clustering of tents, wagons, and supplies. Out of his peripheral, he notices the Seer roll her shoulders--ever so slightly-- in discomfort. The sound of someone approaching draws his attention back to their environment, and he sees himself clad in black armor strolling past a clustering of tents where a man exits one, stepping out into his path._

 

_“Soldier,” the brute barks, halting his progress._

_Rumpelstiltskin hesitates before pointing in clarification. “Me?”_

_The bearded man nods. “I’m needed at the front. You guard this crate with your life.” He gestures to a cage covered by a tarp nearby._

_“W-what’s under there?” He stares at it warily, sensing something foreboding._

_“A prisoner who could help us turn the tide against the ogres.” He moves to approach it but the man stops him. “Careful. It’s a tricky beast.”_

_“Yes, sir,” he nods in understanding._

_As soon as the man departs, he is curiously shifting closer--startled--when a child-like voice calls out to him._

_“Rumpelstiltskin.”_

_Confused, he pulls back the covering, only to be disturbingly surprised in finding a young girl--her eyes sewn shut--within a cage._

_“Y-you’re but a child!” He’s flabbergasted and alarmed._

_She points to a nearby bucket of water. “Please,” the babe requests. “I haven’t had a sip in days.”_

_“H-how do you know my name?” He glances around them, wondering if he should relieve this duty to another._

_“I’m a Seer,” the redhead replies. “I see all.”_

_As she holds up her hands--revealing a pair of eyes set in the palms--he shakes his head, taking a stumbling step back. “No, no, no. That’s… That’s not possible. You must have overheard someone speak.”_

_“Rumpelstiltskin,” the girl repeats. “The son of a coward. Raised by spinsters. Scared of ending up just like his father.” She tilts her head in eerie fashion. “Did I overhear that? I told you. I see all, even what has yet to pass.”_

_“Y-you mean the future? You can see the future?” He takes a step forward, cautiously intrigued once more._

_“Indeed I can… Including yours.”_

_He thinks on it for a second. “No, no, no. I… I won’t indulge this…dark magic.”_

_“Even if what I see concerns your wife? Milah?”_

_Worry is washing over him instantly. “Why? Has something happened to her?”_

_“Give me water.”_

_He hesitates only a second before he acquiesces. Picking up a small tankard, he dips into a rain barrel._

_“Here.” He hands her the cup of water, her wrists shackled. “Slake your thirst, witch, and speak of what you know of my wife.”_

_The girl takes a large refreshing gulp, before replying, “She is already with child.”_

_His heart swells in hope. “I’m to be a father?”_

_The younger Seer, however, shakes her head glumly. “Your wife will bear you a son, but your actions on the battlefield tomorrow will leave him fatherless.”_

_Oh how his gut sinks--his knees weakening at the notion._

_“I-I’m going to die?” The probability is unacceptable. “No, no, no. You… Y-you must tell me how I can stop that from happening!”_

_“You can’t.”_

_“Then I’m done helping you,” he growls in frustration, reaching through the bars of the cage and yanking the tankard from her hand._

_“For now,” the girl agrees. “But someday, you’ll help me again.”_

_“I’ll bet Milah isn’t even pregnant,” he grits in agitation and fright. “You just said that so I would give you water, and now you’re trying t’ trick me into deserting!”_

_“You shall see,” she promises. “Tomorrow, when you see the army ride cows into battle, you will know I speak the truth.”_

_“Cows,” he repeats in disbelief. “And who’s going to man the catapults? Milk maids?” He shakes his head. “I’ve had enough with your fiendish lies!”_

_“There is no escaping it. You will have a son, and your actions will leave him fatherless.”_

_Spooked, he quickly pulls the tarp back over the cage, and as his past self strides off to talk with another soldier, he watches the chilling memory dissolve._

_“The right choices were there, Rumpelstiltskin,” the adult Seer states--their world twisting and wobbling once more. “The future is but puzzle pieces, each a stepping stone toward one path or the next.”_

_“Had you shared that little tidbit early on, perhaps I would have merely been wounded on the battlefield,” he grumbles, eyes tracking the passing blobs mimicking known shapes until it all stops spinning and flutters into the next memory._

_“Perhaps,” the Seer agrees. “Unfortunately, that is not what came to pass.”_

_Grimacing in discomfort, he stares on as his past self appears before them, disconcertingly eyeing with another man several injured soldiers being carried on stretchers--some yelling in pain--others as lifeless as a grave._

 

_“Lucky bastards,” the man grunts with a shake of his head._

_“Oh… I think they’d beg to differ,” Rumpelstiltskin argues, brow furrowed._

_“They’re not dead, but they can’t fight,” the fellow soldier counters. “Which means, they get sent home. That’s the only way out of here alive.” He eyes him up for a moment. “When the ogres rip you limb from limb, pray that they’re quick.”_

_Another man nearby suddenly shouts--attracting their attention along with a small crowd._

_“Fortune favors us,” the boisterous gent repeats. “Fresh supplies have arrived from the Duke. Today, we will not be marching into battle. We’ll be riding!”_

_“Riding?” He frowns, glancing around the camp. “Riding what?”_

_“What kind of question is that,” the bellowing soldier asks. “A horse, of course. Now, grab yourself a cow, and get ready!”_

_Rumpel rubs his chest as his heart skips a terrifying beat. “I’m sorry, sir. W-What did you say?”_

_“A cow,” the first man replies. “The saddles that just came in are made from the finest leather. We call ’em cows.” He gestures towards the crates being pried open by two fellows just feet away. “Grab yours, so at least the ride into doom will be a soft one on your backside.”_

_But he remains frozen in place while the crowd dissipates to gather their belongings._

_“Are you alright,” the soldier asks, giving him a strange look._

_“Y-Yes,” he stutters. “You… You go.” He waves off. “I’ll catch up.”_

 

_As the man walks away, the Dark One turns his back, unable to watch the next event unfold. He doesn’t need to see himself jogging over to the covered cage where the Seer had been held._

_Or hear him cry, “So, it’s all true! I’m going to have a son! And I’m going to die!” He doesn’t need to be reminded how the silent response tore through him. How he shouted, “Answer me,” into the cold passing winds._

_How he aggressively pulled the covering back, revealing only an empty cage. How, in growing despair, he struck at it several times._

_Until he noticed a sledgehammer resting a foot away._

_No._

_He doesn’t need to see himself pick it up over his head. Hesitating--only a moment--to be sure the coast is clear. Before slamming the tool down hard into his leg._

_He doesn’t need to be reminded how his bones broke with a sickening crunch. And how he fell to the ground, screaming in agony, like only a coward could._

_No. He doesn’t need the reminder. The limp, though gone for now, still--in his mind--remains._

_“Let’s move this along,” he asks, clasping his hands in front of him while the Seer silently waves the memory off._

 

_Finally they come to the moment in his life where he truly realized the kind of person he wanted to be. For the one individual--the single light in his world--that shined too bright for him to keep._

_With his leg in a crude brace, the man once known as Rumpelstiltskin hobbles towards his and Milah’s humble home. A storm, like a harbinger, waging behind him._

 

_“Milah! Milah,” he shouts over the wind and rain. Milah! Milah!” He bangs on the door with his free hand, pushing his way inside._

_“Rumple?” The raven beauty stands holding an infant wrapped in a blanket, alarmed and confused by his presence._

_“What’s his name,” he asks, moving towards their little table by the fire. Exhausted, but ecstatic to see this part of the Seers vision has held true._

_“Baelfire,” Milah replies, eyeing their son lovingly._

_“A strong name,” he sighs, collapsing into a chair._

_“Something he’ll need if he’s to live with the shame of being your son.”_

_The words and tone sting. Cutting him like a blade across bone._

_“Wha-What are you talking about?”_

_The look on his wife’s face makes his stomach turn--tears of frustration in her eyes. “Is it true?”_

_“Is what true?” His brow crinkles in thought, but his heart pounds at the suspicion of what she may have heard._

_“Did you injure yourself,” she asks with a shuddering breath, “So that you wouldn’t have to fight? So that you would be sent home?”_

_His entire world stills in that second._

_“Who told you that?”_

_“Everyone,” she hisses, trying not to disturb their sleeping newborn. “Rumours travel quickly from the front.” She nods towards his leg. “Did you do that to yourself?”_

_He can’t answer. Unable, and unwilling, to lie to her._

_“Did you do it to yourself?!” The desperate shout rouses Baelfire, an ear splitting cry breaking past his tiny lips.”_

_“Y-yes,” he confesses, tormented gaze flickering from Milah to the infant and back again. “A Seer told me I was going to die in battle.”_

_“You did this because a Seer told you to?” Milah stares at him in disbelief, trying to sooth Bae down._

_“She was right about everything else,” he attempts reason, gesturing towards their son. “I left the front to be with you! You and Baelfire!”_

_But Milah doesn’t see it that way._

_“You left because you were afraid,” she accuses, tears of shame starting to trickle down her face._

_“No,” he argues, shaking his head._

_“Yes,” she strikes right back, Bae’s cries growing in irritation. “You became what everyone thought you were – a coward!”_

_“Stop,” he pleads, eyes glossing over with heartbreak._

_“Just like your father!”_

_“I am nothing like my father,” he declares, slamming his hand on the table as their son screams on and the storm howls outside. “He tried to abandon me! I will never, ever do that to my son,” he vows. “That’s why I did this! For him,” he points to the swaddled lad. “All for the boy! To save him from the same fate I suffered – growing up without a father!”_

_Milah shakes her head in disagreement, however. “You sentence him to a fate much worse,” she growls, “growing up as your son!”_

_This vitriol between them is startling. Barb after barb tearing their once loving world apart._

_Sucking in a much needed, calming breath, he asks, “What… What… What else could I do?”_

_“You could have fought, Rumpel,” she cries, rocking Bae who refuses to quiet. “You could have died.”_

 

_It’s the nail in the coffin. He can see that now, as the Dark One watching on._

_Back then however...he had been floored--shocked to the core that his wife thought him more honorable in the ground, than above it._

_“You don’t mean that,” he had whispered. “You don’t.”_

_Oh but she had._

_For in the following seconds, Milah handed Baelfire to him. Then hastily grabbed a bucket and stomped out into the unbearable night._

_He had let her go._

_Though, unknowingly, far more than he realized._

_As the memory begins to waver, he focuses his beady black eyes on his past self and his wiggling child, his low baritone echoing, “Oh, it’s alright, Bae. It’s alright. Your Papa’s here. And I promise… I will never, ever, leave you.”_

_“And yet,” the Seer says as they are return to the present, “you have not kept that promise.”_

_“Hence,” he hisses with a sneer,” why we are here now.”_

_“Indeed. If you want to see the next path you must take, there is only one way,” the woman states, turning to face him, her head lowering slightly as if to stare at the dagger hidden beneath his intricate cloak. “Release this burden from me,” she demands boldly, holding out both of her hands, palms up. “I have lived with it long enough.”_

_“Now that,” he chortles with a widening--devilish grin--“is a wonderful idea.”_

_Reaching forward, he places his hands on top of the Seer’s, emitting a burst of white light as soon as their palms connect. The redhead screams in agony, her body arching as her magical gift--and her life force--begins to be pulled out of her._

_“Tell me,” he shouts, as a swarming of visions start spilling chaotically into his mind. “Tell me how to choose! How to know what is certain and what is not!”_

_“I-c-can n-not,” the Seer stutters, her body trembling._

_“TELL ME,” he screams in distress, quickly realizing the gift of foresight does not blend well within his darkness. Like striking heads on a hydra, the two clash even as they connect to one another, forming a body of madness that has him bowing his own head in agony._

_Akin to a turbulent wave of water crashing against hot lava, they smoke and sizzle among the trees as their magics merge._

_Moments later, when the Seer’s heartbeats slow down to single hard thumps--each one a step closer to release--he finally catches sight of the threads of possibilities that exist between chance, freewill, and fate. Like an intricate old star chart, they run in lines of constellations, one shape morphing into another on an endless wheel._

_As his sense of self settles back into awareness, the Seer collapses into his arm, her head bobbing in the way a fragile dolls would. He gently lays her to the ground, listening and watching intently, as she takes her last remaining breaths._

_“B-be careful,” the girl wheezes, her quaking hands falling limp to the forest floor. “N-never trust a-a mother’s dar-darkened heart.”_

_He nods at the final warning, the eyes within her palms going still. “Oh don’t you worry, deary,” he soothes, closing her fingers over the orbs as her chest rises and falls for the last time. “I’ve got not trust left in me t’ give.”_

 

     The words were indeed prophetic.

    In many ways.

_Cora._

_Cinderella._

_Snow White._

_...Regina..._

_Miss Swan._

     He harrumphs at the women he has encountered over the years. To the mothers they have all become. The deals bartered, and lost, to each and every one of them.

     Except the Savior.

     She still owes him that favor.

     He leans his head back, eyes staring up at his timbered ceiling. “Perhaps I should cash that in,” he considers. “A deal is a deal, after all.”

     Just as he’s about to shift his thoughts to the consequences of doing so, a pair of startling shouts echo in the consuming shadows outside his broken window.

     “RUN, PINOCCHIO, RUN!”

     “NO! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK PINOCCHIO!”

_What the devil?!_

     His heart practically spasms in his chest, a beat later, sending him careening down hard to the wood floor. He gasps in pain, feeling the darkness within him arch up--pulling, tugging--just as it had that day Cora kidnapped Henry from the school’s playground. He cries out as another wave of sharp shooting misery passes through him, curling him into a fetal position.

     “H-help,” he stutters, trying desperately to push the magical torture away with his mind. Reaching out--desperately--to the woman on his mind. “Help me.”

 

*****

 

**_Gold’s Shop_ **

 

     A distant rumbling catches Regina and Emma off guard as they approach the antique store, the street lights flickering in and out.

     “Is that thunder?” The blonde glances from her to the eerie shades of red and green streaking across the inky twilight.

     “No,” she shakes her head, taking in a deep--unnerved--breath, feeling the hairs on her body stand as if charged. “It’s magic.”

     “Magic?” Emma’s eyes widen, her chest rising and shoulders going back in alarm. “Is it Rumple? Does he know we’re here?”

     “I don’t think so.” She can sense the emotions pouring out from wherever he’s hiding. Agony. Heartache. Defensiveness. “But he definitely feels threatened right now.” Her brow pinches as she reaches out slightly with her own magia, trying to decipher why Rumple’s hackles are suddenly raised.

     However, she can’t sense another source or individual outside of him. It’s like he’s bleeding magic into the town, expelling it one shuddering blast after another. Like an exorcism. Only much, much more worse.

     She grunts in frustration.

_We so don’t need this now._

     “What the fuck is that all about?” The shout snaps her attention around, letting her catch a glimpse of Ruby just before the streetlights give up and permanently go out.

     “The Imp,” she replies, sensing Emma taking an instinctive step closer to her as her eyes try to adjusted to the new darkness blacking out Storybrooke.

     “Great,” grumbles the werewolf, her hazel orbs a hauntingly blue luminescent in the shadows.

     Emma sucks in a rattled breath behind her, and Ruby’s ears twitch at the faintest sound of the clip of her holstered weapon coming undone.

     Regina panics for a moment, caught completely off guard by the blonde’s reaction. Until she remembers. _Right. She’s never seen the creature within the brunette before. Only the two as separate individuals._

     Previous friendliness aside, the Savior is still reeling from their discovery at the convent, and right now her sense of trust is fragile at best.

     Shifting strategically between the two women, Regina places a calming hand back to rest against the Sheriff’s belt while she asks, “How’s Belle doing?”

     Ruby shrugs, rocking on her heels as her eyes dart conflictingly from Emma to her. “As best as can be expected. She’s still resting.”

     “Good,” she sighs, letting her hand fall away from the blonde the moment her posture relaxes just a bit beneath her fingertips. “Good.”

     Tilting her head back slightly to take in the state of the moon as another crack of magic ripples across, she mentally counts the days until the next full one, then lowers her chin while reaching into her coat pocket.

     “I want you to put this on.” She removes a small pendant attached to a leather chord, handing it over to the waitress. “It will allow you to access your natural shape-shifting capabilities no matter the moon’s current cycle.”

     It’s one of many little trinkets she has crafted over the last two weeks--realizing there may be a future need for artifacts of old thaumaturgy.  

     “Seriously?” Ruby eagerly takes the small necklace, eyes sparkling at the way the crystal within the ornate charm seems to flicker and roll as if it is moonlight itself. “Thanks!”

     Waving off the pup’s enthusiasm and gratitude, she gestures towards Gold’s shop. “Let’s get this over with. I fear we’re suddenly on borrowed time.”

     Striding towards the back door of the Dark One’s store, she tentatively lifts a hand and pushes out with her magic, yanking back a few seconds later as she is predictably zapped by a protective barrier.

     Shaking the sting out of her limb, she glances to Emma. “I’m going to need your help with this. Call up your magic like I’ve been showing you.” Turning her head to Ruby, she requests, “Keep an eye out for any unwanted guests.”

     “You got it,” the brunette quips, facing down the side alleyway.

     Feeling the presence of light magic rise into the air, she shifts her attention back to the younger blonde, pleased by the faint glow emanating from her shadowed palms.

     “Now, all I need you to do is reach out as if to touch the wards on Gold’s shop physically,” she explains, moving her focus back to the door in front of them. “But do so with your magic. Easy enough?”

     ................

     “Emma?”

     She turns, the same time Ruby does, to see the blonde’s face contort in silent pain--her athletic build doubling over--before she begins to frighteningly fade.

     “Emma?!” As she and Ruby step towards the young woman, she looks up in a desperate plea for help, before disparagingly disappearing completely from sight in a cloud of familiar grey smoke.

     “Shit,” they growl in bewildered dismay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. So much occurring! It doesn't feel like that little rest between Cora's death and Blue stirring shit up was enough. Now I've got a Pirate on the lam, an unstable Dark One, a flirty possessive Dragon, a defensive over protective prince and princess, an emotionally divided werewolf, an Evil Queen starting to find her place, a lost boy, a runaway puppet, and a Savior in serious need of a drink.
> 
> Oh, and Henry, who has no clue the storm brewing around him.
> 
> Did I miss anybody?
> 
> Right. Belle. She's...the girl just has a mind of her own. Who knows what she's going to do next. Obviously, relaxing and letting her wound heal isn't good enough for her. Not when her beast is in trouble.
> 
> :( Good grief.


	58. The Paths We Take pt5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the Gods!! This is long overdue. I apologize (like I have in all my other stories) for being occupied with life. Thankfully, I'm now back to being anti-social enough to get more writing done.
> 
> So, back to the story! :)

[previously]

 

  _“Emma?!” As she and Ruby step towards the young woman, she looks up in a desperate plea for help, before disparagingly disappearing completely from sight in a cloud of familiar grey smoke._

_      “Shit,” they growl in bewildered dismay. _

 

*****

 

_ Dear fellow traveler _

_ Under the moon _ __  
_ I think I'm growing weary and I'm hoping you'll come soon _ __  
_ And if I see you _ __  
_ In clean new clothes _ _  
_ __ I hope you hold the mirror up to show me what I chose

_ “Dear Fellow Traveler” - Sea Wolf _

  
  


**_Storybrooke_ **

  
  


     Snow White knows many things about this world and the old one. She knows about the creatures that inhabit both. The woodlands. The townscapes. The people. The shadows. The secrets.

     So when the skies above this fair oceanside hamlet break out into violent colorful shades of rumbling thunder...she knows...

     Trouble is coming.

     Flashes of the dark curse Regina had cast spark like kindle in her mind, filling her with dread as she races back to the Mayor’s mansion with David and Astrid in her old station wagon. She’s conflicted with the situation at hand--approaching her former step mother’s home--in comparison to the vivid memory of the same woman destroying the castle she had once overthrown.  

_      But Henry’s there. _

_      Emma’s son. _

_      My grandson. _

     The boy Regina has raised, so far, with unyielding love and compassion.

     “That’s magic.” Astrid’s strained voice from her back seat echoes her own assumption. “The strong,  _ dark _ , kind.”

     “Can you tell who’s casting it?” David leans his head out the window to get a good look at the chaos brewing over the distant forest.

     The petite fairy shakes her own in response, gripping her seat belt as they take a sharp curve faster than the car likes. “No, but whoever it is,” their eyes meet in the rear view mirror, “they’re bleeding out.”

     She sucks in a sharp breath. Mind instantly going to one person.

_      Rumpelstiltskin. _

     “Call Ruby,” she instructs her husband, Mifflin street coming into sight, “make sure Belle is safe.”

     “On it.” The phone in his hand is already ringing, his bright blue gaze bouncing anxiously as his right leg from the skyline to the house and back again.

     In the muffled noise of her engine and their tense breaths, the device echoes out--searching, reaching. But to no avail.

     There’s a beep.

     And then Ruby’s voice comes across the speaker.

_      “Hey, this is Red. Sorry I missed ya! Leave your deets and I’ll call you back shortly. Thanks!” _

     “Shit.”

_      Where the hell is she? _

*****

**_Gold’s Shop_ **

     “I’ll track her!” The young wolf doesn’t even pause to measure the strength of the necklace received as she starts tearing her jacket off.

     Feet moving in growing pace towards the direction of the storm rippling in the horizon, Ruby begins shedding garment after garment, awkward--stumbling--gate adjusting to each discarded article. Eyes glowing bright, her body and the talisman obey her building desire with wondrous fluid maturation. Limbs expanding--spine curving, hair flowing like a wave of a grass rippling in the breeze--brutal power enlarges the waitress from sexy Red Riding Hood to the Big Bad Wolf. 

     It’s a sight Regina is still in awe of--dropping into step right behind her.

     Boots pound against pavement, then damp leaves, she’s running wherever Red’s nose is taking them. Yes, she could track Emma with magic and transport herself there if she wanted to. The tugging weight in her gut desperately yearns for that.

     But she can’t leave the pup alone.

     Somewhere between fighting to keep her town safe, and bending to play nice for survival, she’s found a friendship in the lanky beast. One she wants to keep. And when it comes to those she consider within her fold, she’ll always watch over them.

     No matter what.

  
  


     But she’s not the only one.

     As Regina and Miss Lucas vanish into the darkness of the woods, Belle French rounds the corner to the back of Gold’s shop, her companion whipping his head about in stressing paranoia.

     “Are you certain you can get inside?” Frankenstein wrinkles his nose at a lingering scent in the air--lavender with wild berries distracting him from the stench of sulfate permeating the town’s atmosphere. “If he has protected his place...”

     The shuffling auburn haired woman nods, eyes darting curiously to the hiking trail nearby as she catches a whiff of the same magic she had smelled earlier upon waking. “Rumpelstiltskin doesn’t trust many.” She returns her attention to the door in front of them, reaching towards it without hesitation. “But for me, he would undoubtedly make an exception.”

     The Doctor braces himself, hands hovering behind the librarian’s back just in case she’s wrong.

     His anxiety, thankfully, lessons when her hand confidently twists the handle.

     And the door easily opens.

     Shoulders bracing with determination, the fair princess steps into her lover’s antique hold, and heads directly through his workshop to the front office where she knows his safe is hidden behind a picture on the wall across from the service counter. Fingers trembling only slightly from the exertion of having to move her arms above her, she frees the elegant artwork from it’s locked position, and swings it to the side.

     Revealing to her and the Doctor, a concealed case containing--she hopes--the one thing that may save her Rumpel.

     “Do you really think you can help him?” Victor watches with a strained sense of admiration and concern as Belle works at the number pad with fixed focus. He hadn’t know what to think when she had first called asking for his assistance. They had exchanged numbers for the purest of medical sense.

     He saved her life, and he wanted it to remain that way.

     Now though, he supposes--admittedly--that perhaps he had given her his line for more than just his ego. This Princess, this determined bookworm who has subdued one beast after another all on her own, is a fascinating formidable woman. One, maybe, who sees  _ him _ as just a man with a demon on his back.

     Rather than a monster aching to return home.

     “Yes,” she convinces, smiling as the safe makes a  _ ‘click’ _ sound of disengagement--opening with a weathered creak.

     Shifting nervously on his feet, he stares on as the Dark One’s true love reaches into the secured chest, and removes a gleaming dagger that makes him instantly step back with a shiver of trepidation.

     “What the hell is that?!”

     The air around the long curved weapon intricately carved with Rumpelstiltskin’s name on it screams ‘death’, and not in a way he would respect such an instrument to do so.

     “A last resort,” Belle sighs, troubling her bottom lip. Handling the tool with remorseful delicate care.

     Whatever it is, he trusts only her to wield it--those haunting, knowing, blue orbs studying intently with respect and weighted wonder.

     A booming crack of magical thunder rattles the shop, and he wets his own dry lips restlessly while Belle finally places the blade into her long coat pocket. “Come on. We need to get to him before he creates a disaster we can’t overcome.”

     Nodding, she slams the capsule shut--putting the framed painting back into place, and painstakingly follows him out the way they had come.

     “Hold on my love,” she murmurs, eyes casting to the twilight upon exit. “I’m on my way.”

***** 

**_Docks of Storybrooke_ **

     “What is that?” Smee glances up as they wade out of the water and onto shore, eyeing the spectacle illuminating the stars. “Is it an approaching storm?”

     “Nay,” Hook replies, head tilting warily at the strong winds blowing in, rustling their damp clothes, “that’s a squall of magic.” He scratches his chin, eyes darting from the ship silhouettes to the town meters away.

     “Then we better get aboard the Jolly Roger while we can.” His bearded companion begins trudging the distance between the tunnel they had departed out of and where his vessel resides still hidden from sight.

     He follows behind the smuggler, just as he’s been doing for the last hour upon escaping the hospital--sighing in relief when he feels the familiar tether of his ship’s aura upon his wet skin.

_      Home at last. _

     The first thing he intends to do once back in his quarters is take a bath. The hidden passageway they had stumbled through for miles with little light was filled with human and animal dredges--to the point he felt himself nauseous due to the stench. He’s never been more thankful to be out of his normal clothes as he is in this moment, the boards of his gangplank creaking under borrowed soles.  

     With any luck, he’ll be back to feeling like his old self--complete with a refreshed flask of rum.

_      Whatever the ‘old me’ may look like... _

     A resounding crack of magia suddenly breaks across Nyx’s realm, reverberating off the timber of his ship. Knees bending slightly at the foreboding onslaught, he eyes the heavens above thoughtfully--an ever present gnawing, that has grown during his incarceration, scraping against the back of his scalp.

     Much has plagued him as of late.

     Faces.

     People.

     Places.

     Trusts...broken in the havoc of survival.

     “Come on,” urges his mate, tugging him out of sight in the churning night once more. “Let’s get you settled in.”

*****

**_Rumple’s Cabin_ **

     “What the hell”, gasps Emma, clutching her sides in gritting pain as she collapses onto her hands and knees--Regina and Gold’s shop fading to wood and broken glass. Panting heavily, a rushing sensation pulses through her, making her ears ring and nerves spark off with magic.

_      Holy Fuck! What’s happening?! _

_      Where the hell am I?! _

     Over the chaos flooding her system, she can sense another presence nearby that most definitely isn’t Henry’s mother or Ruby. Turning, she’s both shocked and pissed to find Rumpelstiltskin himself lying on the ground in agony just a foot away.  

     “What did you do!” She grinds her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as pain suddenly gives way to an embarrassing sense of euphoria--before all together exiting her system in an explosive cloud of fading magia.

_      Gods! It didn’t feel like this when Regina and I aparated to Granny’s! _

     Her already pink cheeks darken at the thought of the other woman in such an exquisite physical moment.  _ Don’t go there, Swan. Not now. _ Swaying slightly, feeling suddenly light headed, she listens as the inclement tempest pounding outside makes the timbers surrounding them groan with worry, testing the shelter’s ability to withstand whatever is happening to the resident Dark One.

     “Wha-what the fuck have you done, Rumpel?”

     “I-I need you t’ stop th-this,” the man hisses, jaw clenching--angry black eyes opening just enough to meet her own fluttering gaze. “I need ya t’ he-help me!”

     “How,” she croaks at the desperation seeping out of the Imp. “I’m not like you, or Regina, or Maleficent! I don’t know what I can do!”

_      Why didn’t you grab one of them, instead? Why ME? _

     “Yes you do!” He waves off her frustration with an irritated gesture. “Please,” he implores, reaching out towards her, “j-just grab my hand!”

     But she hesitates.

     The hairs on her neck raising in alarm.

     What if it this is all a ploy? A manipulation to use her for something? It IS what he does, after all. Not only would she be failing as a Sheriff if she let’s Rumpelstiltskin deceive her once more, but as a savior and mother as well.

     “I’m cashing in my favor, dearie,” he spits angrily, sensing her thoughts. “You owe me one!” Boney fingers wiggle in disturbing frantic fashion. “Now, take. My. Hand!”

     She glares at him, her own temper swelling at the reminder of the trade she made for Ashley to keep her baby.

     But she shuffles toward the pawn shop owner nonetheless. Hoping like hell that whatever is about to happen won’t cost her or anyone else another tragic price. Forest eyes alight like a wildfire, her gaze darts between his digits and the storm rattling them, before she reaches out.

     Fingers stretching.

     Intending to twine with the Imps own.

     Just as she can feel the magic vibrating off Rumpelstiltskin, a hauntingly familiar voice pierces the cocoon of magic between them.

     Snapping her attention away with sickening dread.

     “YOU LEAVE THE BOY OUT OF THIS!”

_      Oh my Gods! Is that...? _

_      He’s still...?! _

     “Neal?”

*****

**_Outskirts of Storybrooke_ **

     A sharp bolt of something that sizzles far more powerful than lightning strikes a tree just meters away, forcing him to take a stumbling step back from the Blue Fairy amidst their fighting--smoldering bark rupturing from the poor sapling.

     “Holy shit!”

     Chest rising and falling with fear, Neal flicks his eyes about--taking notice for the first time the onslaught of energy brewing above their heads. A sudden smell in the air tickles his nose, and it is strikingly recognizable--transporting him back centuries to the last moment he encountered it. Taking another shaky step in retreat, his cobalt gaze suddenly searches sharply for the figure that has plagued his dreams since he was a boy.

     “Papa?”

     The name is barely past his lips before he hears a disturbing--startling--howl released within the depths of the forest. Ice slithering down his spine and into his veins at the sound, he shivers with flaming dread.

     “What the fuck was that,” he barks towards the disoriented fairy glaring first at the sky, then the trees being devoured by darkness. “What have you done?!”

     “I have done nothing,” Reul Ghorm snaps, her entire body trembling--whether from magic or worry, he can’t be sure. “We have obviously been discovered!”

_      Good! Wait, by who?! _

     Just then, the ground unexpectedly quakes beneath their feet with a reverberating--terrifying--groan.

_      Oh shit! _

     Flailing wildly, he tries to keep his balance--ears ringing with the disturbing noise as Blue falls to the ground with a sharp cry.

_      Son of a bitch! _

     As he tries to hold his stance, something large skirts along his peripheral, and he bends at the waist--sucking in a harsh breath, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in deadly alarm. Big, black, and menacing, the creature howls again.

_      What the fuck is that?!! _

     Throwing himself down against moss and dirt with a instinctively timed  _ “Whoa!” _ , the beast leaps past him a second later to land dangerously in front of the kneeling fairy. He stares, eyes glued to the massive wolf, as building terror keeps him pinned in place while the animal growls warningly at the petite woman.

     Amidst the wildly building standoff, he doesn’t catch sight of a second form approaching. Not until the brunette is stepping into his field of vision, breaking him from one horrific scene to another.

     Glowing purple eyes illuminated by hands engulfed in dangerously whipping fire meeting his petrified gaze, the Evil Queen from August’s book glares down at him as a devilish grin snarls from her painted lips, “Hello Mister Cassidy.

*****

     Emma pulls away from Rumpelstiltskin in agitation, moving unsteadily to the broken window, ignoring his protest of anger and pain.  _ Where is he? Why is he out here? Is that Blue bitch with him?  _ Eyes sweeping the inky shadows being highlighted by flickering shades of turbulent magic, she feels her pounding heart constrict as distant shapes in the midst of an altercation catch her attention.

_      Shit! _

     One, undoubtedly, is Regina. The brunette’s magic not only flaming high in view, but also calling out to her own like a siren’s song drifting upon invisible threads--interrupting and dispersing whatever hold Rumpel had on her.

     The other, if the aggressive posture is anything to go by, appears to be Ruby in wolf form--the lanky woman far more massive and intimidating as the big baddy from her twisted fable than the sweet innocent brunette lost under stalking hunger.

     That means then, that the other two--both lying prone--are quite possibly Reul Ghorm...and Neal.

     “Fuck!” Slapping the wood around the busted frame, her nostrils flare as she takes a moment to decide on what to do next. 

_      I so don’t need this right now! _

     Pausing a beat longer, she finally spins on her heels and strides towards the door of the cabin, almost stomping right through it if not for the Imp’s shout of, “W-where are you going? Savior? I-I sent for you! Y’ have to help me!”

     Eyes blazing, she pivots to meet his infuriated look with her own. “I don’t know how, and I don’t trust you!” Pulling in a shaky breath, she hears Ruby let loose a warning howl, and she twitches at the sound. “But Regina is here,” fingers flexing at the thought of the other woman’s relationship with the trickster, “Maybe she’ll be willing to help.”

     Turning, Emma sprints through the door with her mind made up before the Dark One releases an enraged scream to match that of the creature just meters from his hideaway. 

*****

     “BACK OFF ME BEAST,” shouts Blue, staring the wolf girl down while trying to scramble back onto her feet. She raises a hand in warning to the moon child, but halts as another voice interrupts them.

     “I suggest you stay put,” the Evil Queen warns, body alit with magic and fire in that dark way she’s always threatened the masses with, “or else.”

     The Lucas girl growls again, and she glares at the captive beast.

     “What have you done to her,” she gestures to the animal, large eyes glowing a haunted shade of azure. “What spell have you used to enrapture the poor child.”

     Regina laughs, it’s deep timber resonating just as loud as the magical thunder sweeping around them. “Trust me, bug,” the Miller’s daughter taunts, “I’ve done nothing to dear little Red but offer her,” she tilts her head coyly, “opportunities.”

     Movement behind the formidable once Queen catches Reul’s focus, and she remembers why she’s out in the woods of Storybrooke in the first place. “Whatever game you intend to play, Regina, I won’t be apart of it.” The brunette scoffs, lifting her chin, meeting curious hazel orbs. “The time has come to bring your wretched curse to an end. If you’re not willing to do it, then I must take action against it.”

     The witch narrows her gaze thoughtfully, eyes searching her own with wary suspicion.

     “So that’s your plan, is it?” The elegant beauty flicks her honey orbs to Ruby, then tilts her head slightly to Baelfire who shifts restlessly once more behind her. “To bring this little dance to closure, hmmm?”

     The Evil Queen raises her chin, then takes a partial side step away, head swinging to an unexpected approaching shadow. “I”m afraid whatever means you are after, Blue, will be fruitless.” Her gaze locks with the descending ominous figure as the fire in her hands go out. “There is only one person who can break this curse, and she’s not about to give up her life for that....Are you, Emma?”

     The daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White steps into sight, and Reul feels her heart constrict with a deep burning chill as the blonde looks from Regina, then to Baelfire, before settling on her and replying in enraged confirmation, “Not a chance in burning hell your Majesty.”

     Then the ground falls metaphorically out from beneath her when the said woman returns her attention to the Dark One’s son in recognition and growls, “Neal,” in such a menacing tone there is no disputing that they share a volatile past left omitted to her.

     Until now.

     “No...”

 

     “Emma,” Baelfire breathes, caught off guard by the anger and hurt flashing across her chiseled face as they reconnect for the first time in over a decade.

     “Did you know,” she asks in a harsh whisper loud enough for only him and the Queen to hear. “Did you know who I was? Where I was from?”

     His mouth goes dry. Throat tightening. Words being constricted by the degrees of shame assaulting him at her sudden inquisition. No hello. No screaming. No searching, yearning, looks. Just a jarring need for knowledge he doesn’t want to part with. Not without understanding or reason.

_      Shit. _

     “I uh..” he rasps, thinking of what to say to diffuse the situation. He coughs, crouching slightly with their entire world seems to shake with another crack of magical thunder. “I uh,” he looks up to meet her gaze, trying to find strength in a lie he’s so good at using. “You gotta understand...”

     But his eyes flicker for a half second in the direction of the threatening brunette intentionally(?) standing between them, and he finds himself answering a beat later with a resigned. “Yes.”

_      I’m so sorry Em _ , he thinks. _ I’m so, so sorry. _

     Opening his mouth in his next breath to repeat that exact soul felt sentiment, he instantly snaps it closed when a boot, rightfully so, strikes out of nowhere before he can defend himself--knocking him back with a crunching, blinding, hard blow.

     “Fuck you, Neal Cassidy,” Emma hisses--blood splattering from his broken nose and busted upper lip.

_      Son of a bitch!! _

     Turning a teary gaze her way, he sees only a solid regal grip on her bicep holding her back without fully restraining her, as she repeats again with vibrating hatred, “Fuck you!”  

_      Shit....shit.... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About fucking time! Good on you, Emma, good on you!!
> 
> And Blue, you ignorant, selfish, petite, angry ass bitch...I hope like hell Ruby bites you. Though...can a werewolf turn a fairy? Gods I hope not.
> 
> Regina, Regina, Regina...you're looking mighty devilish in this chapter ;) I like it. I like it a lot.
> 
> Hook......*Sniff*.....please be sure to dump that bath water overboard when you're done. Phew....
> 
> Belle....well, I just don't know what to say (again) about you. But hey, Frankie, good to see you're still around...for now. Has anyone ever shipped Belle and Frankenstein? Just think of all the crazy experiments they could get up to!! :D
> 
> I like this Snow, far better than series Snow. She's observant and take action as fuck. Once kind of killed that mid season 2. I get it, Ginny was pregnant, but isn't that what they have stunt doubles for? Anyway, I don't know what the charming duet will find once they reach the Mansion, but I'm digging Astrid going along for the ride. I think she might be my next dark horse.
> 
> THANK YOU!! To everyone who continues to follow this story, even with its delays in chapter updates, I appreciate you, greatly! MWAH!!


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